All's Fair In Love And War
by InsideMyBrain
Summary: The Soviet Kingdom is losing power, fast. Three of King Ivan's Lords have split and declared their own Kingdom, the Baltic Kingdom. Lord Eduard is smart, and he's quickly gained the support of the Nordic Kingdom. With their combined forces, King Ivan has no chance of reclaiming his territory. Quickly, he needs to make allies. But even with allies, will he win this war? RoChu & more
1. The Beginning

**A/N: Hello! So I've really wanted to write this AU for a while, and now here we are. Seriously, I drew up a map and everything. I wasn't going to post this until I wrote a little bit more of my ameripan, True Love Is Always Complicated, but I had this chapter done so I thought why not. I'm going to focus more on finishing TLIAC though, so there might be a little bit of a wait in between chapters.**

 **I couldn't fit the ships into the description, but the main ones are RoChu, BelaLeich, Gerkraine, LeitPol, and HongIce.**

 **Just so you know who everybody is, Irina is Ukraine, Mei is Taiwan, and Lien is Vietnam. More characters will be introduced in later chapters :)**

 **Reviewers are blessed~**

* * *

It was a cool spring morning when it all started. Spring mornings in the Soviet Kingdom tended to be rather on the cold side, like all weather in the Kingdom, but nonetheless it was beautiful. It was especially beautiful in the gardens of the castle Kremlin, in the heart of the city of Moscow. The gardens were filled with crocus flowers, azaleas, orchids, roses, and lilies. The petals of these flowers were speckled with dewdrops that slowly rolled and dripped off each time a cold wind blew through them. King Ivan was gazing out his window at the beauty of these gardens.

King Ivan was the ruler of the Soviet Kingdom. He liked to think he did a good job of it, but in reality the Kingdom was crumbling. It had been on a steep decline for centuries, and the Kings through the generations were of no help at all, preferring to indulge their own pleasures than ensure the safety of the people. Ivan was no different.

Not that he didn't want to help the people, he simply didn't know how. Himself and his two sisters grew up in a world where everything was handed to them on a silver platter, and it was hard to break that mentality when he took the throne. So he settled for a rule of mediocrity, hoping that his heir - if he had one - would be a better ruler than him.

It was that mentality that his father, the previous King, probably had, but Ivan hardly let that thought bother him. King Zima had always been distant to him as a child. He always helped him when he needed it, but mostly his parental figure was his older sister, Princess Irina.

Since Ivan had no friends or lovers, his two sisters were the people he loved the most in the world. The three were all very close, having no one else but each other to spend time with. However, at that moment Ivan didn't know where his sisters were. He supposed Natalya might have been sleeping still, as it was early, but Irina usually got up much earlier than he.

Putting aside thoughts of his sisters, Ivan continued looking out the window at the beauty of the morning. Early morning was his favourite time of day. The world seemed to be waking up at this time, but not like it was in a rush to get things done. In the early morning, the world woke up sweetly and slowly, starting with the sun. After the sun would be the flowers, petals opening and stems perking up. Then the bugs and birds would start to move, and soon all of nature would be in perfect harmony.

Until the people woke up, that is.

People were loud and noisy, they yelled and they laughed and they disturbed the serene beauty of nature in all its glory. Ivan had nothing against the people in the city, but when they started to wake up, he would usually go back to sleep for another hour.

Ivan yawned, running a hand through his messy platinum locks. He was still in his sleep clothes, and his eyes felt tired from staring out the window for so long. It was time he got ready for the day.

He drew the curtains again and walked over to the washbasin in the corner of his room. He blinked a few times, getting used to the dark again, and splashed some cold water onto his face from the basin. He washed his face, shaved, got dressed, and tamed his hair. The last step was his old scarf, which he wrapped tightly around his neck.

Ivan was opening the curtains again when he heard a knock on his bedroom door. "Come in!" He called, not turning around.

He heard the door opening, and a footstep inside. "Vanya, I think you need to see this." Irina said from behind him.

"Good morning, Irunya." He smiled at his sister. She did not smile back.

Irina's bright blue eyes were full of worry as she looked at her younger brother. Her pink lips were pressed together in a frown, though however worried or anxious she was, she looked stunning. She was wearing a casual green dress with a white fur trim, and she picked up her skirt to take a step forward, revealing the white underskirt patterned with yellow flowers. On her collarbone rested a heavy gold necklace, and her blonde hair was in its usual braided updo, a piece of semi-transparent fabric half concealing it. Ivan noticed she was holding a letter.

"What's that?" He asked, nodding to it. Irina sighed.

"Sit down." She said, handing it to him.

Ivan sat on the end of his bed and looked at the letter. The seal was broken, but when he put the two sides of the envelope together he still couldn't recognize it. He looked at Irina in confusion, who shook her head. He pulled out the letter and unfolded it, stopping when he saw it was written in Lord Toris' hand. Which was strange, because Toris usually sealed his letters with the Soviet seal.

Ivan gulped, then began to read the letter.

 _Dear King Ivan,_

 _I am writing to inform you that I, Toris Laurinaitis, and my fellow Lords, Eduard von Bock and Raivis Galante, have split from the Soviet Kingdom. The territory we had control over as Lords is now our own Kingdom, the Baltic Kingdom. The Eastern Mountain range all down to the border of the Asian_ _Kingdom is now our border. Do not attempt to start warfare, as our new allies, the Nordic Kingdom, will help us drive you back into your own Kingdom. We are no longer a part of the Soviet Kingdom. We are our own Kingdom._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Toris Laurinaitis._

Ivan lowered the letter slowly, his hand shaking. "They can't do this." He whispered.

"They can." Irina said sadly. "The Nordic Kingdom is too strong for us. Their army is double the size of ours."

"Does Natalya know?" Ivan asked his older sister.

"She does. She doesn't care." Irina told him. "She said something like, 'Toris was annoying anyway.'"

Ivan groaned, putting his head in his hands. "What do we do?"

Irina sat down beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders like she did when they were children. "We have to get it back." She murmured softly.

"You're right." Ivan agreed. "But we need allies."

"Who doesn't like the Nordic Kingdom?" Irina mused, clasping her hands over Ivan's shoulder and pulling him in closer. It didn't matter that he was a grown man, almost six feet tall. Ivan's cheek was being poked by her shoulder, but this was far preferential to being suffocated in her bust, as happened when they were younger.

"The Germanic Kingdom." Ivan responded immediately. "I don't know if they would be our allies, though. They're a good fighting Kingdom, but they wouldn't join a war just because we asked them nicely. There must be something we can give them."

The siblings were silent for a moment. Each of them was thinking the same thing, but neither said it. Finally, Ivan voiced the thought.

"King Ludwig might want a wife..."

Irina nodded, loosening her grip on her younger brother. Ivan straightened up and looked her in the eye.

"If you, um, don't mind, I guess..." Ivan stumbled over his words, unsure if he was asking too much of his sister. On the one hand, it was a way to get their territory back, and Ivan had heard King Ludwig was very nice. On the other, it was marriage. A lifelong commitment.

"For the Kingdom." Irina said.

Ivan felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes, and he embraced his older sister. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Irina kissed the top of his head and smiled. "Go write that letter. We need our land back."

Ivan stood up and went to his desk. He pulled out a sheaf of paper and a pen. He dipped the pen in dark purple ink and began to write.

 _Dear King Ludwig,_

 _As you may or may not have heard, I recently lost quite a bit of territory, due to three of my Lords declaring their own Kingdom. With the Nordic Kingdom as their allies, we cannot hope to reclaim our land. I propose that we become allies, by way of a marriage between yourself and my sister, Princess Irina. If this interests you, write me back, and castle Kremlin shall be ready for your arrival in four days._

 _Sincerely,_

 _King Ivan Braginsky._

* * *

Toris sat at the big wooden table at castle Kaunas, twiddling his thumbs nervously. Beside him sat Eduard and Raivis, each looking more nervous than he. Eduard's blond hair was mussed and his sea-green eyes reflected anxiety. Raivis was fiddling with his dark red tunic, his blue eyes focused on the stone floor. This was certainly reassuring. He looked at the people across from him.

King Tino and King Berwald sat across from him. King Tino was a cheerful man with short blond hair and twinkling violet eyes. He wore a light blue tunic embroidered with silver thread and a matching hat with a tassel. He was cast into shadow by King Berwald, his husband, who towered over everyone at the table. His attire consisted of a dark blue tunic decorated with gold thread and buttons.

Toris felt very small and insignificant next to these two.

"So, until you can gather your own army, we'll lend you half of ours." Tino said pleasantly.

"Thank you so much." Toris replied gratefully. "Really, we can't thank you enough."

"Of course you can." Tino smiled brightly. "Your gold mines are invaluable."

Raivis chuckled awkwardly, and everyone at the table looked at him. He stopped laughing abruptly.

"I can see you're nervous," Tino continued. "But don't worry. The Soviet Kingdom won't dare attack you with us on your side. Even if they do make allies, it will take a while, so relax and set up your own government."

"Don't g't too r'laxed." Berwald muttered loudly. Berwald seemed to be in a permanent state of muttering. "Th' Soviet Kingd'm won't hes'tate to make allies. You sh'ld make m're yours'lf."

"Right." Toris said rhetorically. He ruffled his chin-length brown hair and gave them a half-smile.

After some awkward farewells, King Tino and King Berwald took their leave.

"Well." Eduard sighed, removing his spectacles. "Do you think we'll be okay?"

"I hope so." Toris said.

* * *

King Yao tapped his fingers on the table irritably. His family was loud. And hard to deal with. He wondered how they ever got anything done.

"Alright, everybody calm down." He said. When it appeared nobody heard him, he yelled it.

Everyone fell silent, freezing in their positions. Yong Soo froze with his hands reaching towards Kiku's chest, Kiku froze trying to swat Yong Soo's hands away. Leon froze in the act of scratching his initials into the mahogany table. Mei and Lien froze in the act of yelling at Yong Soo.

"Thank you." Yao said tiredly. "Now, I just want to make it clear that we are not going to get involved with this ridiculous war."

"I agree." Kiku dipped his head. Kiku, Yao's younger brother, was a small, quiet man with jet black hair. He tended to observe the antics of the rest of his family before coming to a decision, but now he agreed right away.

"Why not?" Yong Soo asked, cocking his head to the side childishly. Yong Soo was Yao's cousin, and because of this Yao reluctantly let him control a small peninsula off the northeast coast of the Asian Kingdom. Yong Soo was hyper and immature, but underneath that he could be a great leader.

"Because whichever side we end up on, it won't have anything to offer us." Lien, also Yao's cousin, said practically. She flipped her long ponytail over her shoulder and smoothed down the front of her green áo dài. "The Soviet Kingdom wants their territory back, so they won't give us anything. And the Baltic Kingdom, being as small as they are, can't afford to give us any land."

"The North European Kingdom is small too, though." Countered her wife Mei. She looked uncharacteristically serious, and even the flyaway curl on the right side of her head drooped a little bit. "But then again, they have a long history of conquering. After all, they once did own the entire American Kingdom."

"I say we let them fight until this has all blown over." Yao informed the table.

"Yeah," Leon spoke up, "It would be too much, like, trouble to fight for something when we don't get anything in return."

"So it's settled then?" Kiku asked everyone. After a general nod, Kiku stood up and walked quickly away.

"I wonder where he's in a rush to..." Mei murmured, looking after him thoughtfully.

Kiku walked down the long hallways of Summer Palace, making his way to his own room. For some strange reason, the area he had control over, Japan Island, was extremely far away from his actual home. He wondered why Yao wanted to keep him close.

He reached his bedroom and turned the handle, quietly slipping in. Earlier this morning, he had received a letter, and he needed privacy to read it. His husband, Heracles, was napping in the garden with their pet cat, so that took care of him. He retrieved the letter from its hiding spot and sat down on the bed to read it.

He smiled when he saw the American seal held the letter closed. He broke the wax image of a maple tree in front of red and white stripes, and pulled out the letter.

 _My love,_

 _It has been far too long since we've seen each other. Writing letters is a good way to pass the time, but nothing compares to seeing you in person. I would write some poetic declaration of love, but I've never been good at that, so I'll tell it to you plainly. I love you with all my heart. Perhaps I can visit you someday. I would love to see the exquisite gardens you talk about, and I would love to meet your family. We could arrange diplomatic meeting between myself, my brother, and King Yao. I'm certain I have some resources to offer him. Think it over. I hope to see you soon._

 _Love, Alfred._

Kiku lowered the letter, his smile plastered onto his face. However, it quickly faded when he heard the doorknob rattling. Kiku stood up in a panic, then tossed the letter, envelope and all, into the fire just as Heracles entered the room, their cat on his head.

"Kiku, what were you doing?" Heracles asked through a yawn, trying to run a hand through his hair, but only petting their cat, Liakáda. She was an orange tabby, and while Kiku didn't know what the name meant, it sounded pretty.

"Oh, nothing." Kiku lied casually.

"I as well." Heracles smiled lazily, stepping forward. He wrapped a hand around Kiku's waist and pulled him in for a kiss. Heracles pulled away first, stroking Kiku's cheek with his thumb. Liakáda purred contentedly.

"Are you alright?" He asked his husband.

"Yes." Kiku replied. "Everything is just wonderful."

* * *

 **A/N: Translations:**

 **Zima: Winter in Russian**

 **Liakáda: Sunshine in Greek**


	2. The Plan

It was mid-afternoon in the Germanic Kingdom when King Ludwig received the letter. The warm sunlight slanted in through the windows of Sanssouci Palace, illuminating the golden-wrought chair Ludwig was seated upon. In front of him on the table sat a china plate, empty save a few cake crumbs. He sipped his coffee peacefully, enjoying his afternoon coffee and cake.

"Hey, West!" A voice called, making him start. Coffee splattered onto the wooden table, luckily not ending up on Ludwig himself. He set down the cup and dabbed at the table with a napkin.

"What is it, bruder?" He asked, turning to see his older brother, Prince Gilbert. His red eyes had a sharp twinkle in them, standing out brilliantly against the white of his skin. His dark blue tunic was accented with gold trim, and his tall black boots clicked on the tiles of the palace.

"This letter came for you." He placed the letter on the table, beside Ludwig's plate. "From the Soviet Kingdom."

Ludwig picked it up thoughtfully, looking at the image of a closed fist on the wax seal. Gilbert pulled up a chair and leaned over his younger brother's shoulder as Ludwig opened the letter.

There was silence for a few minutes, as they both read the letter. Then Gilbert sat up. "Well, what do you think?"

"I'm not sure." Ludwig said. "King Ivan is... Unsettling, but I've heard his sisters are very beautiful. We've always been on alright terms with the Soviet Kingdom, but we're not indebted to them."

"Don't you think you should find someone?" Gilbert said, looking at Ludwig worriedly. "Because of... You know."

"I've moved on from that." Ludwig replied, though Gilbert still looked skeptical. "It's been a long time, bruder."

"Still. I say accept." Gilbert shrugs. "Meet them, and if worse comes to worst, then we can always decline. We have a far bigger army than they, so it's not worth it for them to attack us."

"You're right." Ludwig stood up, towering over his older brother. "Let's tell everyone. Castle Kremlin, in four days."

The brothers split, walking in different directions down the halls of Sanssouci Palace. Gilbert made his way out to the garden to find Elizaveta.

The gardens of Sanssouci Palace were beautiful, with a vineyard complemented by terraced gardens and a baroque garden. Orchards and greenhouses surrounded those, and the whole space was dotted with small temples and fountains. Gilbert found Elizaveta sitting on the steps of the Temple of Friendship.

"Eliza!" He called. She looked up, wind whipping through her sandy brown locks.

"Hey, Gil." She stood up, and despite the wind her dress hardly moved at all. The skirt was a pleasant shade of green that slowly faded to red, with a flowery pattern along the hem. The bodice was white with ruffles, and the three-quarter sleeves were white and puffy. Elizaveta picked up her skirt and slowly walked down the steps of the temple.

"We're visiting the Soviet Kingdom." He blurted.

"We are? Why?" Elizaveta replied. The two began to walk back up to the palace together.

"They want us to be their allies. We haven't accepted yet, but we're going to meet them. All of us."

"Even Lord Feliks?" asked Elizaveta. There was a spring in her step and a small smile on her face.

"I guess so." Gilbert shrugged.

"Are you bringing your boyfriend?"

"Birdie probably won't be allowed to go." Gilbert laughed lightly, giving Elizaveta a playful punch on his shoulder.

"Why not?" Elizaveta returned the punch. "I'll be taking Roderich."

"It would take too long for him to come over here. He is the King of the American Kingdom."

"One of them."

"Yeah."

The two reached the palace, and Gilbert held open the door for Elizaveta with a slight bow. She rolled her bright emerald eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

* * *

Castle Odescalchi loomed over the town surrounding it, magnificent and impressive. Its turrets seemed to scratch the undersides of the clouds, and its walls seemed impenetrable. Only a few residents of Rome had been inside the castle, and could attest to its beauty from the inside. The architecture was stunning, legends of selkies and sirens carved into walls. Halls were carpeted with exquisite rugs, ornate chandeliers hung from ceilings. The whole place had a perpetual aroma of perfume, and if one were to stand in some part of the castle, completely still, not even breathing, they would hear a harp playing faintly.

The King that inhabited the castle seemed just as lovely and elusive as his home. King Feliciano was a slender, almost childlike man. People close to him said he had a cheerful disposition, almost too cheerful. When he appeared to the public, his actions reflected this. Even his looks reflected his personality; his brown eyes, when he chose to open them, had a sparkle in them, and his auburn hair with one curl sticking out had a playful look to it.

It was almost comical, the way his brother was so different from him. Prince Lovino had dark brown hair and eyes, and a more olive skin tone. There was a rumour that they were only half-brothers, indeed, King Romulus did sleep around. But Lovino was much more different from his brother than just in looks. His personality was the most surly, irritated, angry, and generally rude one you could imagine. Swears slipped out of his mouth more often than actual words, and he seemed to have an unfounded dislike of anyone that wasn't his family. One wondered how his husband, Prince Antonio, put up with him.

If you were to enter the castle that sunny afternoon, walk through the halls carpeted with exquisite rugs, you would be privy to the private conversation the two brothers shared.

King Feliciano sighed and cupped his head in his hands.

"What is it, idiot fratello?" His brother, Prince Lovino, said sullenly. Lovino was the only person in the whole South European Kingdom who could refer to the King that way and not be punished.

"Nothing, nothing." Feliciano waved off his brother's half-hearted concerns. "I'm just remembering..."

The scowl faded from Lovino's face. He wasn't exactly a patient person, but with this subject, he always had been.

"You need a spouse." He said matter-of-factly.

"What?" Feliciano replied, bemused.

"Someone to help you get over that bastard." Lovino inspected some dirt underneath his fingernails. "It's been fucking years, Feliciano. Years. And yet you still have days where you mope around and sigh and say you're 'just remembering.' And then you say you've gotten over it. Bullshit."

"But I don't need a spouse. It just takes time." Feliciano mumbled.

"Time? How much longer do you need? Ten more years? A hundred more paintings?" Lovino softened his speech as he saw his younger brother flinch at the last sentence. "You've been unhappy for ten long years, fratello. Don't you think it's time to try and save yourself?"

"I still don't think-"

"I'm going to write a letter to Emma. It's about time you met her, anyway." Lovino muttered a few curses under his breath as he stood up to look for pen and ink.

"Shouldn't you just get Antonio to ask her in person?" Feliciano asked snidely.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Feliciano." Lovino snapped.

"Sorry." Feliciano replied automatically.

Lovino huffed. "If we do visit the North European Kingdom, Toni's staying here. I still don't trust him around her."

"You really should try to forgive and forget, you know." Feliciano tried.

"Hell no." Lovino snarled.

Feliciano sighed again, and then all was silent, except for the scratching of Lovino's pen against paper and the faint sound of a harp.

* * *

Saturday evening in the Soviet Kingdom. King Ludwig and his family were due to arrive any moment. Irina, Ivan, and Natalya were seated in the parlor.

Ivan was dressed in a long white coat. It was pristinely white, whiter than pure snow. The only spot of colour on the garment was the Soviet crest, red and blue against his chest. His hands, covered in black gloves, clutched his sceptre. It held sentimental value for Ivan, thus he often kept it locked up, afraid it could be stolen. Light from the lamps, wick turned low, reflected of its silver surface. He glanced nervously at each of his sisters.

Irina, the jewel of the evening, was dressed extravagantly. A long blue dress that trailed on the floor, encrusted with gems. Sleeves that hung almost to the hem of the dress. Bodice fitted as tight as possible, complemented by a corset tied in a rib-crushing manner. Neckline drooping, but not too much. A piece of shimmery fabric, trailing from her shoulderblades to the end of her train. A single silver locket, resting just below her collarbone. Heavy silver earrings, a blue topaz set into the centre of each. Hair braided tightly, piled on her head and held back with clips. Her red-painted lips smiled, but her blue eyes had a shard of worry.

Natalya was dressed simpler than her sister, but still fit for a special occasion. Her dress was a deep violet, with a puffy skirt supported by petticoats. Pink lace peeked out from the bottom, grazing the marble floor. A pattern of black vines crept up her skirt, curling out at her waist. A black ribbon was tied around her waist, looped in a stiff bow at her lower back. The neck of her dress was tied up with a bow overtop of white ruffles and pink lace. Her sleeves fell to the floor as well, and were trimmed with white. She wore black gloves like her brother, and in one hand she clutched her favourite knife. A white bow was fixed in her blonde hair.

"Nervous?" Ivan asked Irina, rather nervous himself.

"A bit, I suppose." She touched her locket, smile fading.

The siblings heard a knock on the door, and a servant's footsteps walking to open it. Ivan bit his lip, Irina took a deep breath, and Natalya rolled her eyes.

Then King Ludwig entered, followed by Prince Gilbert, Prince Vash, Princess Erika, Lady Elizaveta, Lord Roderich, and Lord Feliks.

The siblings stood up, though only Ivan stepped forward to shake Ludwig's hand. He was greeting them, to be sure, but the butterflies in Irina's stomach had just doubled in size, and she'd stopped listening.

King Ludwig was certainly very handsome. Tall, muscular, with a serious, stoic face and piercing cerulean eyes. He wore an olive green tunic with black trim and accents. As Irina watched him, he dipped his head at her and she forced herself to pay attention.

"Thank you for coming," She heard herself saying, "I'm sure you must be tired. Your bags are being taken to your rooms for the night. Supper will be served in an hour. Please sit." She gestured to the surrounding seating, and slowly, everyone took a seat.

"Thank you for having us." Ludwig told her courteously.

Their guests were certainly more well-off than them, and their dress showed it. The men's tunics were make out of silk, satin, and velvet, precious stones bordering the hems and necklines. Lady Elizaveta's dress was luxurious, flowy, and encrusted with jewels. Even Princess Erika's dress was much more beautiful than Natalya's, and the two were the same age and status. However, what the Soviet Kingdom lacked in money, they made up for in history. Castle Kremlin was decorated lavishly, most of the furniture and decor dating back several generations. The Germanics looked around them in awe for a few minutes, giving all three siblings a twinge of pride.

"I love your dress, Lady Elizaveta." Irina started off the conversation, a bit awkwardly.

"Oh, thank you." Elizaveta brushed down the front of it unconsciously. "Your dress is lovely, too."

"Thank you."

"Your home is beautiful." Commented Elizaveta. "Very classic."

"It's rather old, but that is what makes it home." Irina replied sweetly.

"Ours is almost completely new." Elizaveta said. Irina was sure she didn't mean to brag, but it came across that way. "King Fritz had it built as a gift for Queen Charlotte."

The conversation continued at a snail's pace for the rest of the hour, the two women mostly exchanging compliments with occasional interjections from Ivan or Roderich. Irina suppressed a sigh of relief when a servant came to inform them it was time for supper.

The three siblings led their guests from the parlour to the dining room. As they took their seats, the servants were putting out dishes.

The Soviets had laid out a beautiful feast for their guests, made up of traditional cuisine from their Kingdom. For soup, there was of course shchi with sweet apples, various meats, sauerkraut, fresh, cool cabbage, and lots of spices. The soup was topped with sour cream and dense rye bread. Then there was borscht, a delectable beet concoction, made thicker by the addition of cold cream. For the main course came steaming platters of pelmeni and pierogies, dumplings filled with either juicy meat or buttery potatoes, and topped with savoury fried onions. The studen was the perfect texture, and the carp sizzled as lemons were squeezed over the flesh. Rounding out the course were fluffy pancakes, served with hot butter. To drink they offered a type of juice called kvass, beer, and medovukha, a sweet alcoholic beverage. And for dessert there was solozhenick, a huge cake made of layers of pancakes and cherries, covered in light, airy egg whites and thick whipped cream. Sweet, hot tea was served along with the dessert.

After the meal, the party was moved to the ballroom, where they mostly stood around and talked. Roderich and Elizaveta were dancing, but they were the only ones.

"Princess Irina?"

Irina blinked, taking in the image of King Ludwig standing in front of her, head bowed, arm extended. His blond hair was combed back neatly, though a few strands were loose and hanging down. He looked at her through his lashes, not raising his head. "Would you like to dance?"

"You can call me Irunya," She replied, "And yes."

The two moved out to the middle of the floor and began to turn slowly to the music. Normally, dancing in the Soviet Kingdom was jumpy with big movements, and required quite a bit of space. However, out of courtesy for the Germanics, Ivan had chosen slower music, meaning to dance to it, one would have to be calm. Irina and Ludwig twirled gracefully on the floor for a few quiet moments.

"Are you always this nervous around women you don't know?" Irina asked suddenly.

Surprised, Ludwig let out a short, awkward laugh. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"You don't have to be." Irina replied breezily. "I don't bite." She winked.

Ludwig chortled again, though this time it sounded more natural. Irina grinned, slowly coating a small smile onto Ludwig's lips.

"So," Irina twirled, "Tell me a bit about yourself." She put both her hands on Ludwig's shoulders, making him put both his hands on her waist. "I've heard of you, but I don't know much about the actual man."

"Well, I'm twenty four." Ludwig started. "I like dogs. I have three. I can't stand messes or unorganized spaces. Half the cleaning that goes on at my house is done by me, not the servants." Irina laughed. "I try to be a good King. I don't know, I'm not very interesting."

"A man who likes dogs, is organized, and tries to be a good King? Not much to go on, is it?" Irina pretended to think. "Leaves that much more for me to find out by myself, then."

Irina smiled coyly at him.

Around the room, people were starting to warm up to each other and talk more. Gilbert had started a conversation with Ivan, and Vash and Roderich weren't even glaring at each other. However, Princess Natalya hadn't socialized the whole evening. At that moment, she was standing with her back to the wall, arms folded over her chest.

Natalya surveyed the room, unintentionally glowering at everyone.

It wasn't that she was sulking or she was bored or anything - in fact, she liked thinking to herself for hours on end. She was thinking that the evening was stupid and pointless. All this fuss over Toris, Eduard, and Raivis? When they split, she thought she was finally rid of them forever. Now it looked like they were going to be rejoining the Soviet Kingdom. Great.

Natalya's chain of thought was interrupted when a blur of green entered her vision. Upon focusing, she found it was Princess Erika, her forest green dress trailing behind her. Her blond hair was tied to the side with a matching green ribbon.

In no time, the girl was in front of her, and Natalya didn't know what to do. Should she say hello? Tell her to go away? Be polite, then shoo her away at the earliest possible moment?

"Hello!" Erika said cheerfully, sticking her hand out for a shake. "My name is Erika."

"Natalya." She replied, taking Erika's hand and shaking it lightly.

Erika surprised her by saying, "Boring party, huh?" She sighed. "Big brother Vash is always so protective of me, so I never really get to go to parties. When I do, they're always like this."

"I don't like parties. Or people, in general." Natalya shrugged. "There's two people I like in this world, and that's my siblings. Everyone else I tolerate."

"Cynicism doesn't suit you." Erika joked. "You're too young for it."

"I'm older than you." Natalya countered.

"We're the same age." Erika stated. "Unless, of course, you're older than nineteen."

"Oh," Murmured Natalya, "You look younger, somehow."

"Everyone tells me that." Erika fiddled with the end of her hair ribbon. "So, what do you like to do?"

"To do?"

"For fun. Or do they not have that here?" Erika flashed a cheeky smile.

"I sing. I keep a diary. I, uh..." Natalya paused, cocking her head. She seemed to be pondering something. Then, a genuine grin dawned on her face. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course."

Natalya leaned closer to Erika, lowering her voice. "I practise magic."

Erika took a step back, and for a moment Natalya feared she'd scared her away. But when she widened her sparkling eyes, Natalya knew she'd captured her attention.

"Really?" She gasped.

"Well," Natalya conceded, "I wouldn't call myself a witch. I mostly use amulets and communicate with ghosts. Sometimes I cast spells."

"What do you use it for?" Erika asked her.

"To bring good luck or get me things I want. The study of the occult is supposed to be a journey to become closer to the Goddess and the universe, while bringing forth the powers from within. But I'm not that dedicated."

"That sounds amazing." Erika's eyes were as big as saucers, the pupils ringed by a bright, intense green. For a moment, Natalya could have sworn she saw the glittering of a galaxy in those eyes, but then she blinked and it was gone.

Erika seemed different from the other girls who, admittedly, Natalya had little contact with. Natalya had some idea in her head of a giggling, blond-curled little girl, having tea and frolicking in a garden. Erika seemed... Multi-sided. She giggled and liked to joke, but Natalya could sense there was another version of the girl hiding within her.

It was with this in mind that she formed the question, "Do you want to see it in person?"

The look on Erika's face was one of ecstatic disbelief.

Natalya giggled. "Come on." She grasped Erika's hand and, very inconspicuously, sprinted across the room and out of the door.

The two ran as fast as they could in their dresses, shoes clicking on the tile floors and their laughter ringing through the halls. There was something deliciously forbidden about running down a quiet hallway in a fancy ballgown, and it was intoxicating. After tripping up a winding marble staircase, they reached the safety of Natalya's bedroom and tumbled inside. Slamming the door behind them, they collapsed on the floor.

It took a few minutes to recover from their laughing fit, but once they did, Erika felt awkward. She stood up, straightening her dress and coughing.

"You were going to show me your occult things?" She asked Natalya politely. Natalya, still on the floor, nodded.

Natalya stood up and walked over to the fireplace. "One of these bricks is loose." She explained, tapping each brick. "I keep all my supplies here so no one will find it." She pulled out a big brick and set it carefully on the floor. She then rolled up her sleeves and plunged her arm, elbow-deep, into the hole. When she pulled her arm back, she was holding an iron box.

Beckoning to Erika, she took the box to a small table and pulled two chairs up to it. Once Erika was seated next to her, Natalya opened the box.

Inside was a mess of knives, candles, pouches of herbs, bones of small animals, and various pendants. Erika lifted one out of the box, the acorn pendant swinging lazily.

"That's an acorn amulet." Natalya told her. "It attracts the opposite sex if you douse it in musk oil."

Erika placed it on the table with a quiet, "Interesting."

"My Athame," Natalya took out a double bladed knife made of stone, "More amulets, some candles, herbs, a spellbook. That's all." Natalya closed the lid of the now-empty box.

Erika picked up the book and started flipping through the pages. Natalya looked over her collection of amulets with a thoughtful gaze. Then she picked one up, light glinting off the miniature dragon's wings.

"Here." She told Erika, gesturing for her to bow her head. "A gift for you." Natalya slipped the amulet over the other girl's head. "It's the dragon amulet. Brings creativity, protection, and fertility."

"Thank you." Erika breathed, touching it lightly. Its golden wings were folded back as though they were about to unfurl and take off. Its eyes, tiny rubies, glowed in the sputtering candlelight.

"You're welcome." Natalya replied softly, touching the amulet that hung around her own neck, a small gold fairy.

After a beat of silence, Natalya began talking about each amulet and their powers. Erika listened with eager interest.

Downstairs, no one seemed to be missing them. Ivan and Roderich were talking, Irina and Ludwig were sitting together, Elizaveta was cracking jokes to Vash, and Feliks was in the foyer.

Feliks was bored.

Not that the party wasn't entertaining; Irina was very nice, and even Ivan wasn't bad once you got used to him. He somehow felt as if he didn't belong. All these pretty people, standing around and pretending to tolerate each other for the sake of reclaiming some land. It felt uncomfortably dishonest, like he was a puppeteer who could control the thoughts and feelings of the Soviets. It was surprisingly easy to get the siblings to say what he wanted them to; he was the guest, so they had to agree with him and treat him nicely. But it felt wrong, so he went into the foyer to be alone with his thoughts.

He was milling about, his mind wandering aimlessly, when there was a knock on the door.

Feliks looked around for a servant to call, but there was none in sight. He waited for a minute, biting his lip, as the knocking started again, louder and more impatient. He gave in with a sigh, and walked towards the big oaken door.

He opened the door.

On the doorstep stood a man of about his age and height. He had a kind face and soft green eyes. His longish brown hair was tied back, and his pale, spindly fingers fiddled with the hem of his tunic. Feliks figured he was also a Lord, as their clothes were about the same quality. Perhaps the man's was even a little worse. He looked nervous, and when he saw it was Feliks at the door, red began to colour his cheeks.

"King Ivan has guests?" He asked, voice wavering slightly. Feliks began to feel a little sorry for him.

"Yes, Lord Feliks Łukasiewicz of the Germanic Kingdom at your service." Feliks introduced himself gallantly.

Any trace of red that had been on the man's cheeks disappeared at the mention of the Germanic Kingdom. He looked white again, white as a ghost. Another pang of empathy pulled at Feliks' heart.

But then he coughed, straightening himself up to his full height. Confidence rushed into his voice as he said, "Tell King Ivan Toris Laurinaitis gives him this message." Toris cleared his throat. "With King Tino and King Berwald's help, we've now an army of 4,800. Don't try to reclaim your land. We're the Baltic Kingdom now."

Toris turned his back on Feliks, walking down the steps to his horse. Feliks stood there a moment, processing what he had just heard. Absentmindedly, he watched Toris mount his horse and ride away.

Toris didn't look back once.

Feliks took a few steps back and shut the door. He needed to give the message to Ivan.

He found Ivan in the ballroom, chatting with Elizaveta. After a quick apology to her, he pulled Ivan into the hall.

"What is it?" Ivan asked, worry creeping in at the edges of his voice.

"Toris Laurinaitis was just here." Feliks told him. He repeated the message Toris had given him.

Ivan's face was grim and sad at the same time. "Oh no." He murmured.

Feliks stood there, and when it began apparent Ivan wasn't planning on saying anything more, he hastily excused himself.

Walking back into the ballroom, Feliks saw everyone else was occupied. He resigned himself to standing alone and thinking.

He began to think about Toris, the Lord who'd split from the Soviet Kingdom. It certainly took a lot of bravery to do that, especially as he was clearly nervous when he came to the door. Coupled with the fact he could possibly be killed for what he did, he really was quite courageous.

Feliks had an idea. A very good idea. If it worked, anyway. If it didn't, he was in trouble. But he had a good feeling it would.

Ivan entered at that moment, and resumed his conversation with Elizaveta. Feliks scanned the ballroom, eyes coming to rest on Ludwig, sitting with Irina.

 _Sorry, Ludwig._ He thought.

Ludwig seemed to sense someone watching him, and glanced over his shoulder. He saw no one, so he turned back to Irina.

She was still giggling from the story he'd just told, hanging her head to hid her smile. Her hair looked feathery soft, eyes twinkling, cheeks pink from alcohol and laughter. Somehow, her beauty reminded Ludwig of why he came, and his own smile faded.

"You know..." Ludwig said, his voice soft and faraway, yet stiff and unnatural. The strangeness of it caught Irina off guard and made her stop laughing. Ludwig's eyes were unfocused, and she could see he was clenching his jaw. "There's no political benefit for me if we do get married."

Irina let her arm fall listlessly to her side, feeling defeated.

"You're right. I'm just an offering to entice you to become our ally."

Ludwig dipped his head to acknowledge the correctness of her statement. "When I first got the invitation, I was hesitant, because your brother can be intimidating. However, I accepted because I'd heard of your beauty. After meeting you, though, I know there's more to you than how you look."

"You think so?" Irina asked dubiously. "I'm not very smart, as Natalya constantly reminds me, and people never look at my face when they speak to me. They always look at my chest." She pulled at the neckline of her dress self-consciously.

Ludwig lowered his voice. "I've been looking at your face the whole evening. More than that," He took her hand, "I've been looking into your eyes."

The two gazed at each other for a moment, as if daring each other to make the first move. Eventually, Ludwig started to lean closer. Though it was he who initiated it, it was Irina that closed the gap between them and kissed him. Neither closed their eyes until their lips touched, like they were under a spell. The kiss itself was short and hesitant, though when they pulled away, each was left wanting more.

"Well, uh," Ludwig said awkwardly, "It's rather late."

He stood up quickly, knocking his chair. It made a loud noise, drawing everyone's attention. Both Irina and Ludwig were blushing by now, though he more than her. While her cheeks were pleasantly pink, his were very red. It could be the alcohol, the company, or a combination of both.

Ludwig offered her a hand to stand up, and she took it, but quickly walked off to talk to her brother.

By this point, everyone was tired and a little bit tipsy. When Ivan suggested they retire for the night, everyone agreed readily. The guests were shown to spare bedrooms for the night, and the three siblings went to their own bedrooms.

Vash, Gilbert, Roderich and Elizaveta all went toolset right away. Feliks, Ludwig, Erika, Natalya, Irina and Ivan were all up for hours after they went to bed. Each had very different things on their minds to keep them up, but one thing was certain. If they chose to act on what they were thinking of, everyone's lives would be impacted.

* * *

 **A/N: Holy shit this chapter turned out to be longer than I thought it would be.**

 **Sorry for the wait, I would have finished this sooner, but I've been really busy this past week.**

 **Three side ships have been revealed! You'll have to wait a few chapters for the RoChu, but in the meantime you get Gerkraine, BelaLiech, and LietPol.**

 **A few things I need to mention:**

 **-Studen is jellied pork**

 **-I love the idea of Natalya being able to use magic and I will definitely find a way to work that into the story a bit more**

 **-Feliciano and Lovino will be getting another scene, but a while from now, as it isn't exactly important to the plot.**

 **So what do you think will happen next? Will the Germanics accept and ally with the Soviets? Will the Soviets attack the Baltics even if they don't? And what's Feliks planning?  
**

 **Reviews are appreciated very much.** **Speculations, constructive criticism, anything!**


	3. The Betrayal

**There's literally so many typos in the last chapter oh god im sorry**

 **ill go back and fix them eventually**

* * *

Dawn came to the Baltic Kingdom quietly and sweetly. Lords Eduard and Raivis were up and about soon after the sun rose, but Lord Toris stayed in bed until midmorning. He was thinking, perhaps, if he just stayed here for the rest of time, the shame and embarrassment from last night would fade away.

Eventually, though, he had to get up. When he did, he went into the drawing room of Castle Kaunas, finding the other two waiting for him.

"Good morning." Raivis greeted him, and Eduard echoed him. Toris sat down in a chair heavily, in no mood for breakfast.

"How did it go with Ivan last night?" Eduard asked, his sea-green eyes sparking in interest. "Was he intimidated?"

"I, uh," Toris coughed awkwardly, "I actually didn't speak with him."

There was a beat of silence.

"What?" Eduard gasped angrily. "We agreed to send the message in person to make him realize we won't back down easily! To instill fear. And you just gave up?"

"He had guests!" Toris tried to defend himself. "I gave the message to someone else-"

"Wait." Raivis interjected. "Guests? Who?"

Toris' shoulders drooped. "I talked to Lord Feliks Łukasiewicz. He said he was from the Germanic Kingdom."

"The Germanic Kingdom." Raivis repeated.

"They're making allies." Eduard voiced what everyone was thinking.

"If they ally with the Germanic Kingdom, they'll have 2000 more soldiers than us." Toris quickly did the math in his head.

"But they haven't yet, right?" Raivis said, desperately trying to remain positive. "If they had, we would have heard about it."

"I suppose." Toris frowned.

"So we still have some time." Raivis glanced between the other two.

"That's a relief." Eduard said. "Besides, we still have to set up our Kingdom." Toris and Raivis nodded. "I mean really, we're just fumbling our way through this."

Toris shot a glance at Raivis, unsure where Eduard was going with this. Raivis avoided his gaze.

Eduard stood up suddenly, his sea-green eyes unfocused and a determined expression on his face. "I propose that I be King!"

There was a beat of silence before Toris said politely and coldly, "Why do you think you're entitled to be King of the Baltic Kingdom?"

"Because I'm the one who got us the support we needed to split." He stated, as if it was obvious. "Without me, Kings Tino and Berwald would never have become our allies. You two owe me. So I think I deserve the title of King."

"Do you?" Toris asked, standing up as well. "As I remember, you weren't the one who wanted to split in the first place."

Eduard said nothing.

"I propose that I be King." Toris countered.

"Raivis?" Eduard said. Both looked at the youngest Lord, who was fidgeting anxiously, not looking at either of them.

"I don't really care." He said finally, though sounding like he did care very much. "We split to be free, not to fight amongst ourselves."

"Hm." Eduard sat down again, thinking. Toris sat as well, his hostility dissipating into thin air.

"Oh, I know!" Eduard spoke up. "We can get married and both be Kings!"

This suggestion was met with silence. Raivis visibly sagged, his shoulders slumping and his head drooping. Eduard didn't seem to notice, instead looking at Toris for a reaction. Toris, however, did notice, and knowing the reason for it, shook his head.

"I don't know about that." He answered vaguely.

Eduard opened his mouth to say something, but at that precise moment, the doorbell rang loudly. All three froze, listening to the bell echo throughout the mostly empty castle. They had no servants yet, so one of them had to see who was at the door.

"Germanics?" Whispered Raivis, as the bell rang again. Nobody responded. Seeing a way to solve the argument, he said, "Whoever answers the door is King."

Toris got up and walked out of the room.

Toris' steps on the cold tile floor thudded loudly, his heart slammed against his ribcage, his breathing was uneven and shallow. Every step, every heartbeat, every breath brought him closer to his impeding doom. Time slowed down as he reached for the handle, expecting King Ludwig with several hundred soldiers on horseback.

He pulled the door open.

Feliks Łukasiewicz stood upon the doorstep, dressed in pink and grinning.

Toris was rather relieved, however, he was still understandably worried. He sighed. "Hello again, Lord Feliks. Have you come to declare war on us?"

He was very much surprised, then, when Feliks scoffed and said, "Hell no. I came to help you!"

"What?" Toris blurted, seeing Raivis and Eduard appear in his peripheral vision. They looked just as shocked and confused as he.

"May I come in?" He asked in response, and Toris held the door open, allowing him to step inside. Toris closed the door, and the other two Lords approached to hear what he was going to say.

Having everyone's undivided attention, Feliks adopted a more serious expression and began to explain. "I have almost no status in the Germanic Kingdom, practically a servant with nice clothes. I'm like you three were in the Soviet Kingdom – nobility with a small role and little respect. The one thing I have to my name is land. And every centimetre of it can be yours if you let me join you."

Feliks crossed his arms, waiting for an answer from someone. After a long silence, Toris asked, "Can we talk about this?"

Feliks nodded politely as Toris dragged Eduard and Raivis into the next room to discuss the offer.

"It's a trick." Eduard declared right away. "The Germanic Kingdom must have allied with the Soviet Kingdom, and now they're trying to get a man on the inside. He has to be lying."

"I don't think so." Toris bit his lip, thinking. "I saw him yesterday when I was delivering the message, and there's something about him. Something about how he acted when I gave him the message. I can't put my finger on it, but I'm fairly certain he's being honest."

Eduard seemed unconvinced by this, so Raivis chimed in. "We need all the help we can get. Besides, this isn't like King Ivan. The Soviet Kingdom may be weak, but they still have honour."

"True." Eduard agreed. "But I'll be sure to keep a close eye on him."

Toris shrugged. "Fair enough."

The trio re-entered the foyer to find Feliks leaning against the wall, whistling carelessly. He straightened up when he saw them walk towards him, a smirk on his lips and a twinkle in his eye.

Eduard held out a hand, which Feliks took eagerly. "Welcome to the Baltic Kingdom, Lord Feliks."

"Thank you very much. I assure you this is a decision you will not regret." Feliks glanced between the three of them before saying, "So, who's King?"

"Toris." Raivis responded immediately. Toris smiled shyly. Eduard crossed his arms.

"Well," Feliks raised his eyebrows, nodding at Toris, "Let's get started on a few changes, _King Toris._ " He let his mouth hang open for a few seconds after the hiss of the s had escaped his lips.

Eduard and Raivis stood there wordlessly as Toris and Feliks walked into the conference room, slamming the door shut behind them.

For a moment, nothing could be heard but the echoing of that slam.

"I'm a bit hungry, how about you?" Raivis asked awkwardly.

"It is about lunchtime." Eduard said. "Let's find something to eat."

* * *

Lunch in Castle Kremlin that day was a quiet affair. Irina nursed her food, wincing every time her spoon clattered against the bowl. Ivan ate steadily, too focused on his food to make conversation. Natalya ate slowly and thoughtfully, eyes unfocused and mouth slightly open. It was cold in the dining room, and the awkward atmosphere only added to the frigid feeling. King Ludwig and his family had left early that morning, and since then the siblings had hardly spoken to each other. Perhaps it was the strangeness of the situation, but each of them felt like the others needed quiet.

Suddenly, Irina dropped her spoon. It clanked loudly as it fell onto the table, drawing both her siblings' attention and causing her to flinch. She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed.

"Well," Irina said, opening her eyes, "Ludwig was very nice, and he seemed interested, so I suppose yesterday went well."

"That's good to hear." Ivan replied, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Natalya? What about you?" He turned to face his younger sister. "Did you have a good time with the Germanics?"

Natalya pushed her plate away, prompting a servant to retrieve it. "Princess Erika is pretty. Nice." Natalya flushed slightly as she corrected herself. "She's pretty nice."  
"I'm glad you're making friends." Ivan smiled, either unaware of Natalya's growing blush or not caring.

Irina stood up and leaned on the back of her chair, her dress swishing loudly. She was dressed considerably less fancy than the night before, and while she looked plainer, she looked more herself. "Do you think you should look for a spouse as well?" Irina asked her brother. "I mean, there's no guarantee Ludwig will say yes. Even if he does, more allies never hurt."

Ivan chuckled humourlessly. "Let's focus on one wedding at a time."

Irina nodded, and left the room quickly. Natalya followed a few minutes later. Ivan stayed in the dining room, thinking about what his older sister had said.  
And then, coming to a decision, he left the room as well.

* * *

It was around two o'clock in the Germanic Kingdom when Gilbert found his younger brother. He was sitting by a fountain in the gardens of Sanssouci Palace, staring into the rippling water with concentration written on his face. Gilbert was anxious to talk to him, for the decision about Irina needed to be made soon. And with the news he was bringing, he was sure Ludwig would decide in the affirmative.

Quietly walking up to his brother, Gilbert sat on the stone bench beside him, staring into the water as well. The letter Ivan had written, proposing the alliance, was clutched in Ludwig's right hand. Gilbert supposed he was thinking about it. He looked at Ludwig with a pleasantly calm face, and asked the question.

"So? Have you decided?"

Ludwig looked from Ivan's letter in his hand to his brother's expectant face, and back again. He pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"Irunya is a sweet woman, and very beautiful." Ludwig started. "But the Kingdom comes before any romance of mine." His gaze drifted to his hands, lying clasped in his lap. "I just don't think this is worth getting involved in for us. We might win, we might lose. It doesn't matter. The point is, it's not our problem. Maybe once this is all over, I can court her again, but right now I need to do what's best for my Kingdom."

The brothers were silent for a while. Gilbert stared off into space, thinking. He then produced an envelope from his pocket and shoved it in Ludwig's general direction. "Maybe this will change your mind."

Ludwig looked at the envelope in some surprise before taking it slowly.

He didn't bother checking the seal; by the flourishing King Ludwig Beilschmidt on the front, he could tell Feliks had written it. He looked at Gilbert curiously as he pulled out the letter and unfolded it.

 _King Ludwig,_

 _Last night I met an intriguing young man, though it was not King Ivan. As my curiosity had been aroused, I paid this young man a house call after thinking it over thoroughly. Now, this young man is King Toris Laurinaitis of the Baltic Kingdom. He is extremely wise, kind, benevolent, and has the potential to be a great leader. However, he has no idea how to go about doing it. Therefore, I took pity on him and decided to guide him through being a King. This, of course, means mutiny from the Germanic Kingdom. I've decided it's worth it. For the Baltic Kingdom holds many more possibilities for me – power, money, status, respect, even love. But as you know, these things are not acquired easily. So, the land I had control of as a Lord of the Germanic Kingdom is now part of the Baltic Kingdom. This means, as I assume you are going to become allies with the Soviet Kingdom, trespassing upon this land is an act of war. And if you initiate war, we will not hesitate to pound you into dust. The Nordic Kingdom is the strongest Kingdom when it comes to wars, surely you remember. So goodbye, Ludwig, and welcome to a new era._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Prince Feliks Łukasiewicz of the Baltic Kingdom_

Ludwig said nothing for a few long moments.

Then he crumpled up the letter and flung it into the fountain before storming off.

Ludwig practically ran through the gardens to get back to Sanssouci Palace, his anger blinding him. He stumbled into the palace in a rage, and went straight for his desk to write a letter.

 _Dear King Ivan,_

 _I am writing to accept your proposal, however, on one condition: that I get back what Lord Feliks took from me. You may not have heard, but he joined the Baltic Kingdom and gave some of my land to them. So as long as I get my land back in the war, we are allies. Also, consider myself and Irina officially betrothed as of now._

 _Sincerely,_

 _King Ludwig Beilschmidt_

* * *

Toris and Feliks were seated at the big wooden table in the conference room at Castle Kaunas. Feliks was bent over a piece of paper, scribbling wildly. After a talking for a couple hours, Feliks had decided to write down all the changes he wanted to implement. He was focused intensely on writing, so intensely Toris almost found it amusing.

Feliks leaned back in his chair, throwing his pen down satisfactorily. "I think that's, like, everything for now."

Toris picked up the paper and ran his eye over it. "Infantry in close-order formations, shield-bearers protecting cavalry detachments, more soldiers on horseback, irregulars with war scythes, halberds, javelins, throwing axes… And wood?" Toris looked at Feliks questioningly.

"You know, wood." Feliks made a stabbing motion with his hand. Toris still looked confused. "What you call it…" He trailed off, thinking. "Like, a spear!"

"Oh!" Toris laughing. "I didn't know what you meant." He looked back at the paper.

"Fortify Warsaw." Toris read, then lowered the paper. "Warsaw?"

"It's a more powerful name." Feliks said in response.

"Hm." Toris shrugged, then returned the paper to Feliks. "You're good at this stuff." He remarked.

"I was part of the Germanic Kingdom, I picked up a thing or two." Replied Feliks.

For a moment the two were quiet, hearing the clock tick loudly. Feliks was gazing at Toris thoughtfully, while Toris was zoning out.

Then Feliks leaned closer. "You should wear purple, you know."

"Huh?" Toris turned to see Feliks' face close to his, and though he blushed, he did not move away.

"It's a colour that represents royalty, telling everyone you're powerful and one to be feared." Feliks raised a hand and brushed a few strands of hair out of Toris' face. "Plus, it brings out your eyes."

Toris blinked rapidly as Feliks drifted closer to him. He certainly felt uncomfortable, having only known the man for a few hours. So he coughed and stood up.

"We should inform the others of these changes." He said stiffly.

"Of course." Feliks responded, standing up as well. "Lead the way."

Toris and Feliks left the room, leaving nothing behind save the echoing slam of the door.


	4. The Betrothal

**Don't ask me why I decided to use Sanssouci Palace. I should have made it Castle Reichstag, but here we are.**

 **Also I'm not quite sure what currency aurium is equal to. Just think that a hundred is a lot. But actually not too much, cause the Soviet Kingdom is poor. So like, semi-rich ppl's salary.**

 **I'm sorry about the huge gap between updates, but for some reason this takes a while to write.**

* * *

The carriage rattled unsteadily along the road, bumping and jerking the three siblings seated within. It was mostly silent inside, the awkward conversation between Ivan and Natalya having died out long ago. Irina hadn't said a word the entire trip, seeming nervous. It was understandable; she was only meeting her betrothed for the second time. All sorts of questions may have plagued her mind, perhaps only just realizing the weight of the decision she had made. However, her face remained unreadable, and her siblings would never know.

"We've arrived at Sanssouci Palace." The driver called, turning into the palace gates. Seeing who they were, the gatekeeper quickly let them through.

Sanssouci Palace towered over them as they rolled through the massive garden. Seated upon a hill and framed by trees, it made Irina feel slightly queasy.

"Will Erika be here?" Natalya asked suddenly. The second the last word was out of her mouth, she looked like she regretted asking the question.

"I don't know. Maybe." Ivan answered vaguely. Natalya seemed uncontent with this answer, but she only sighed in annoyance.

The carriage ground to a halt in front of a marble staircase leading up to the palace. A fountain sputtered nearby. Irina was helped out first, then Ivan, then Natalya. The three stood there for a minute, a cool breeze ruffling their hair and clothes. All three felt a small ache, staring up at that big palace. Were they really doing the right thing?

But then Ludwig appeared at the top of the stairs, and there was no more time to ponder the decision.

He descended the stairs, looking more stately and impressive than Irina remembered. His shoulders seemed broader, legs longer, poise more kingly and face more kind. He was dressed in a red tunic with a yellow jacket and black accents, the embroidery magnificent fabrics fine. As he approached the siblings, his otherworldliness seemed to diminish, and he became the same man he was when they first met him.

"Welcome, Irina, Ivan." He greeted, shaking their hands as he said their names. "Natalya."

After this uncomfortably formal greeting, the three were ushered up the stairs and into the palace.

Sanssouci Palace was beautiful.

The rooms were spacious, with high ceilings and deep fireplaces. The architecture was stunning, the furniture ornate, tapestries intricate and carpets luxurious. It was more modern than Castle Kremlin, but still lovely in its own way.

The three siblings were shown into the parlor, where the rest of the Germanics were to greet them. After a few minutes of small talk, Gilbert pulled Ivan into the next room to discuss the marriage contract.

"So." Gilbert sat, motioning for Ivan to do the same. "How do you want to do this?"

Ivan thought for a moment. He didn't know whether to trust Gilbert; everything about him screamed 'trickster' and 'double-crosser', from his cocky attitude to his devious smirk. He had to make sure Irina was happy in her marriage, it was the least he could do.

"No adultery. If he harms her in any way, I have the right to annul the marriage," Ivan stated.

Gilbert narrowed his eyes. "If it can be proven. With three or more witnesses."

"One," Ivan bargained.

"Two."

"Fine, two witnesses." Ivan pressed his lips together, sighing through his nose.

"She must produce an heir within three years," Gilbert said.

"Five years."

"Okay, five years. What about her dowry?"

Ivan bit his lip, thinking. "One hundred aurium."

"Two hundred."

"A hundred and fifty."

"One hundred seventy-five."

"One hundred sixty."

"One hundred sixty-five."

"All right," Ivan agreed. "One hundred and sixty-five aurium."

"Have you got all that?" Gilbert asked the scribe sitting in the corner with paper and ink. He nodded. "Good. Add the following: 'After the completion of the act of marriage between King Ludwig and Princess Irina, the Germanic Kingdom is to join the Soviet Kingdom in war against the Baltic Kingdom.'"

The scribe nodded, writing furiously. When he was finished, he put his pen down and looked expectantly at Gilbert.

"Have that made into a contract. Myself, my brother, Irina, and Ivan will sign it on the day of the wedding." Gilbert stood, holding out a hand to Ivan.

Ivan took it, and the two men shook hands.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Gilbert said. Ivan smiled with his mouth, but not with his eyes.

Ivan and Gilbert re-entered the parlor to find everyone else getting along splendidly. Irina, Ludwig, Elizaveta, Roderich, and Vash were engaged in a compelling conversation, and Natalya and Erika were talking on their own. Ivan attempted to join the conversation, but his mind and eyes were on Irina the whole time. He felt confusedly out of place, among the Germanics, like being lost and alone in an immense crowd. Irina had always been weaker in mind, and a sick feeling took over his stomach as he imagined her feeling what he was, only ten times worse. It was sickening, and coupled with his distrust for Gilbert, Ivan had half a mind to call the whole thing off.

All too soon, it was time for the ceremony, and Ivan felt waves of panic wash over him as they were led into the banquet hall. The long table had been pushed to the wall to allow for more floor space to perform the ceremony. Several attendants stood in the centre of the room, holding objects in their hands. Ludwig and Irina approached them while the rest of the group was seated at the table. Ivan watched, the butterflies in his stomach growing more restless by the minute.

One of the attendants led Irina out of the room, and a second attendant attached a green ribbon to Ludwig's jacket. Green for young love at the betrothal, blue for purity at the wedding.

Irina came back, dressed in a simple green gown. A green ribbon was affixed on the sleeve of her dress. Irina and Ludwig stood side by side, facing the attendants, who handed him a gold ring. He turned to her and took her right hand gently.

"With this ring," He began, slipping it onto her third finger, "I will take your hand and your heart, mine to keep and to care for, beyond all barriers and even death." As he finished the sentence, he gave Irina's hand a squeeze before letting it go.

An attendant then presented Ludwig with a pair of slippers. Made of gold fabric and stitched intricately, they glowed in the candlelight. It was as if they were showing off their wholesomeness and purity as an object used in the union of two souls.

Ludwig took the slippers and kneeled down. As he took hold of one of Irina's feet, Ivan noticed for the first time that they were bare. Her shoes must have been removed while she put on the green dress.

"With these slippers-" He slid one onto her foot- "I will let you rely on me, yours to be held and supported, beyond the measure of time and even eternity."

Ludwig stood and took Irina's hands. Both their faces were solemn, but there was a joyous aura about them that Ivan couldn't ignore. Irina liked him. In time, she might even grow to love him. She'd be happy with him, and Ivan had to be happy with that.

"With this kiss, we will be joined in a promise of matrimony, the strongest bond which nothing can break, beyond all strength of arm and even of mind."

Ludwig finished his sentence and leaned in. Their lips touched. Irina was tilting her head, lips parted, pushing more into the kiss. Ludwig pulled away at the appropriate time, and Irina smiled shyly at him.

Ludwig cleared his throat, and then spoke again. "I, Ludwig, will give my body to you, Irina, in loyal matrimony."

"And I will receive it," Replied Irina. "I, Irina, will give my body to you, Ludwig."

"And I will receive it."

"Irina, I will take you to be my wife and I will espouse you; and I will commit to you the fidelity and loyalty of my body and my possessions; and I will keep you in health and sickness and in any condition it please our Lord that you should have, nor for worse or for better will I change towards you until the end."

"Ludwig, I will take you to be my husband and I will espouse you; and I will commit to you the fidelity and loyalty of my body and my possessions; and I will keep you in health and sickness and in any condition it please our Lord that you should have, nor for worse or for better will I change towards you until the end."

As soon as Irina finished the sentence, applause erupted from all around them. The ceremony was over. They were betrothed.

After the applause died down, Irina and Ludwig approached the table and sat down. Servants were beginning to bring dishes to the table.

For the first course came steaming bowls of thick lentil soup and Hochzeitssuppe, a spicy meat broth with bread and liver dumplings. Warm, thin pancakes were served with both, the plain taste complimenting the spicy and savoury flavours of the soups. For the main course there was Spanferkel, a whole young pig, sizzling and spitting, grilled to perfection. On the side there were huge servings of cool, fresh sauerkraut and heapings of piping hot, buttery fried potatoes. Golden, frothy beer was poured from tumblers, and almost-clear Rhine wine flowed into glasses. And for dessert, there was apple cake with cinnamon and marzipan blocks, sweet almond paste covered in rich dark chocolate. Hot coffee was served with the cake.

Conversation during the meal was subdued. Feeble congratulations were given to the couple, the fact that the betrothal was only for show blatantly ignored. The topic of the Baltic Kingdom and the upcoming war was avoided, yet no one else had anything else to talk about. Fishing and trade routes were discussed, along with music, fashion, and flowers. The discussions were weak, and each topic died out quickly. They were all renewed by Irina, who, with enough beer, was determined that everyone get along. It worked when she began telling stories about her siblings as children; everyone laughed when she told the story of Ivan being rejected by a hamster. Soon they were all exchanging stories and laughing like good friends.

"I have a story about Luddy!" Gilbert set down his beer tankard.

"Gilbert…" Ludwig started, but Gilbert simply rolled his eyes and began talking.

"When Ludwig was little he had a potato he treated like a pet. He even named it Wilhelm." Gilbert informed the table. Everyone giggled while Ludwig flushed.

"That's so cute!" Irina nudged Ludwig, sitting beside her.

"But then it went rotten and we had to have a funeral because it was stinking up the whole Palace." Gilbert laughed. "We buried it in the grounds with its own casket. It's engraved with 'Rest In Peace, Beloved Wilhelm', and set with rubies."

Elizaveta shook her head, snickering. "All right, Gilbert, that's enough. It's my turn to embarrass you now."

Ludwig looked relieved.

"When we were children, Gilbert thought it would be a good idea to steal a watermelon from a farmer. But it was too heavy for him to carry while running, so he dropped it and it broke open and stained his white tunic. I can still hear his sobs." Elizaveta took another sip of her beer.

Gilbert puffed his chest out. "I didn't cry!"

"Oh yeah?" Elizaveta mocked.

"Yeah!"

"Big brother, remember when you were teaching me how to be safe?" Erika suddenly spoke up. She'd been quiet for most of the meal, so everyone turned their heads to her in surprise.

"Uh, yes." Vash nodded.

"It was very good advice you gave me, to take in two stray animals so they won't be lonely."

Vash blushed. Everyone else tittered. Natalya snorted.

"Why would you say that?" Roderich asked loudly. "You shouldn't take in any wild animals."

"I said _if_ she did. Not everyone is as soulless and uncaring as you." Vash snapped back. Elizaveta choked on her beer.

"Well, I never," Mumbled Roderich, which just make more people laugh.

"Never what? Cared about anything other than your piano?" Vash smirked around his glass.

Elizaveta was trying hard to contain herself as Gilbert wiped tears from his eyes. Irina glanced at her siblings. Ivan was laughing quietly, and Natalya was grinning. Excellent.

"Never had the displeasure of knowing anyone as rude as you." Roderich lifted his head high and adjusted his spectacles.

"Clearly you don't know yourself." Vash stared Roderich down.

"And clearly you're a disgrace to Royalty." Roderich sniffed.

"The only disgrace is your clothes," Vash countered.

"Brilliant," Natalya whispered to Erika. Erika merely smiled innocently.

"Your manners are another disgrace," Roderich sputtered, blushing.

"I could put money on the fact you learned yours from Elizaveta."

Vash had laid down his trump card. Roderich gasped loudly, Gilbert suddenly grew serious, and Elizaveta stared at her lap. Ludwig shifted uncomfortably, Natalya looked at Erika in confusion. Irina didn't understand the significance of that statement.

"Sorry, Elizaveta," Vash said after a short silence.

"It's all right," Elizaveta replied, but she continued staring at her lap.

The conversation resumed awkwardly, and eventually picked up steam until the incident was forgotten.

After the meal, everyone moved to the centre of the room to dance. Couples spun in each other's arms: Elizaveta and Roderich, Irina and Ludwig, Erika and Vash. As the dancing went on, partners were switched around and the music got faster.

Natalya sighed irritably, looking at her brother and sister dance. Once again, she was leaning up against the wall at a party, all alone. How pathetic.

Do you not want to dance?" Erika asked, appearing at her side. Her peach-coloured dress swished and glittered with topaz stones.

Natalya shrugged. "No. I don't know. I guess I'd like to." Her fingers fiddled with the heavy necklace of rubies lying on her chest.

Erika smiled. "Then come on." She held out her hand to Natalya.

Natalya took it with a hesitant smirk, and the two walked out to the middle of the floor. Soon they were twirling to the music.

"Are you happy?"

"What?"

Natalya looked at Erika, bewildered. The question was so bizarre and so sudden, and Natalya's face was so serious, it was eerie.

"For Irina. She's to be married soon." Erika looked at the floor, watching their feet step in sync. "Are you glad?" Erika's voice was light again.

"I suppose," Natalya replied. "I feel the wedding is unnecessary, though."

"Why is that?"

"Because Ludwig only agreed to become our allies to get the land Feliks gave to the Baltic Kingdom." Natalya shrugged. "He didn't have to marry her."

"I think he wanted to, though." Erika glanced at Ludwig, and Natalya looked too. He was dancing with his brother, but his eyes were on Irina, who was now dancing with Elizaveta. "Don't you think they look cute together?"

Natalya hummed in response. "I just hope Irina wanted to marry him as well." She spun Erika.

"You didn't talk about it?" Erika came out of her twirl.

Natalya scoffed. "Talk? To her?"

Erika cocked her head and studied Natalya for a moment. "You don't like your siblings very much." She stated.

"I do!" Natalya said defensively. "Sometimes. Don't you ever find your brother to be annoying at times?"

"No," Erika told her. "But maybe that's because he's not actually my brother."

"Oh?"

"He took me in when I was very young, so I don't remember much else."

"Oh."

That was all the conversation they got to have, because then it was time to switch partners. Erika stepped to the left and ended up with Roderich, while Natalya went right and was partnered with Ivan. Elizaveta went with Vash and Irina and Ludwig ended up together again.

Polite chatter swirled with the music as the couples turned on the floor. Everyone was having a good time. Irina smiled to herself; she'd succeeded.

Her partner dipped her suddenly, and she stumbled. Luckily, his large hand was firmly on her back, and he righted her gracefully.

"Too much wine?" He laughed softly.

"Only a few sips too many. Or maybe a few glasses," Irina replied.

"Are you having fun?" Ludwig asked shyly.

"Yes." Irina smiled easily.

"My family is a little strange," Ludwig mumbled, as if he was afraid someone would hear him. He glanced over his shoulder at Gilbert, who was attempting to steal Erika from Roderich. Erika was laughing silently while Roderich looked confused and annoyed.

"You can't have family without strangeness." Irina twirled. "Believe me, I know."

They shared a laugh.

"I do hope you'll feel like you belong here," Ludwig said thoughtfully. "I don;t want youth be miserable in my home."

"I could never be miserable here," She told him honestly.

"That's a relief." Ludwig looked at her sideways. "I feel bad sometimes, knowing that, for you, this is only political."

"Let me tell you, if I didn't want to marry, we wouldn't be here right now." Irina spoke quickly, noticing it was almost time to change partners.

"But do you want to marry me?"

Irina opened her mouth to answer, then closed it. The proper answer was _yes_ , but something stopped Irina from saying it. The truth was, she really wasn't sure. Did she want to marry Ludwig, or was she just doing it for the alliance?

The music changed, and people started to switch partners. Slightly panicking, Irina spit out, "Haven't decided yet!"

Ludwig laughed. Irina stepped over to dance with Gilbert, while Ludwig was paired with Erika.

"I can wait." He flashed a short-lived grin, then turned to face Erika.

The dancing continued late into the night, everyone slowly becoming weary. Limbs limp, but drooping eyes sparkling. The room acquired a warm, heavy aura, like the feel of a laugh mixed with the taste of fatigue. When the candles were burnt to stubs and the beer was all gone, it was time to turn in for the night.

Beds were a welcome sight to the royalty in Sanssouci Palace that night. Not realizing how tired they were, they fell asleep almost immediately. Except for Ivan, who couldn't sleep.

It was odd, because he should have been extremely sleepy. The day had been long and stressful, and he should have been exhausted. But somehow, he was restless. He tossed and turned in the bed he was given for the night, unable to drift off. He found himself missing his own bed at Castle Kremlin, with the goose-feather pillow and thick blanket that smelled of home. Ivan's thoughts turned to Irina, and he wondered if she was sleeping peacefully.

He couldn't stand it any longer, so Ivan got out of bed. A walk around the Palace would calm his mind. He slipped on a covering over his sleep clothes, and wrapped his scarf around his neck.

Sanssouci Palace was the most lovely at night, when the world around and in it was quiet. The tranquility settled over Ivan as he crept through the halls, the silver chandeliers shining eerily. The rooms seemed bigger, and each sound seemed to echo endlessly.

Ivan didn't exactly know where he was going. He just wandered, letting the night guide him and the moon light his path.

Which is most likely why he ended up on a balcony, letting the wind wash over him and the cold night air consume him.

He tipped his face up to the blackened sky, staring at the stars pensively. It was calming, the faint light of those dots in the sky. He could make out a few constellations - the Rabbit, the Axe, and the Woman.

"Stargazing, huh?"

Ivan whipped around, startled, to see Ludwig standing on the balcony behind him. His blond hair was messy and his face was tired. He approached the end of the balcony and stood next to Ivan.

"Yes, it's one of my pastimes," Ivan murmured in response.

"Do you wear that scarf all the time?" Ludwig asked, looking at the fading, scruffy scarf wrapped firmly around Ivan's neck.

"Irina gave it to me."

That was all the reply Ivan needed to give. Ludwig nodded, seeming to understand. They were silent for a few moments, letting the wind whisper in their ears.

"I'll take good care of her." Ludwig said softly.

Ivan sighed. "At first I was worried, because I don't know you very well. Irina deserves someone who loves her and treats her right, someone who won't use her or lie to her. But when I saw you with her today, I could tell you two have a spark. So I know she's with a good man."

"Well, thank you, I suppose," Ludwig responded. "How are we going to win this war?"

"We have the bigger army," Ivan mused. "We'll advance from both sides. Being attacked from all sides gives one a feeling of being trapped like a rat. I want them to feel that."

"As do I."

Neither said anything for a long while.

"It's late." Ludwig spoke up. "You have a long trip home tomorrow morning."

"You're right. Where exactly is my room again?"

"Come with me." Ludwig left the balcony.

The two Kings crossed the Palace in silence. Somehow, the Palace was different than it was earlier. Instead of a comforting dark, it was a cold dark, a dark one drowned in and was ripped to pieces by. Shadows swallowed objects, and footsteps pounded along with their hearts.

Ivan was glad when they finally reached his bedroom for the night. He bid Ludwig goodnight and then, being thoroughly exhausted, fell asleep right away.

* * *

Castle Riksdagshuset was vast and impressive, shiny floor tiles and cold white bricks seemingly cut from ice. The glass in the windows seemed fine and thin as sugar, the wood of the furniture rich and dark as chocolate. The wide room the Baltics were seated in had a frozen air about it, like the dull, bone-chilling feel of being somewhere you don't belong.

Toris, Feliks, Eduard, and Raivis were visiting Stockholm for a few days to plan and strengthen their alliance. Eduard seemed perfectly comfortable around these regal people, and the others couldn't understand it; the Nordic Kingdom wasn't called the King of the Kingdoms without merit. Raivis was the most nervous of them all, trembling constantly, while Toris was embarrassed and Feliks was jittery. He's only just met Kings Tino and Berwald and Princes Lukas and Matthias, and he was finding them hard to get used to. Berwald was intimidating, Lukas was duly annoyed, Matthias was excited, and Tino never stopped smiling. All of them gave off an air of delicacy. It was like being a butter tart beside the fanciest cake in the Kingdoms.

So there they were, the eight of them, seated around an oak table, surveying a map of the Kingdoms.

"Well," Feliks sighed, "The Soviet Kingdom has officially allied with the Germanic Kingdom, and this changes things."

"Indeed." Lukas agreed, never lifting his deep blue eyes from the map. A huge army of figures was placed on the Soviet Kingdom on the map. The combined armies of the Soviet Kingdom and the Germanic Kingdom made 10,800. An impressive number, and more than the Nordic Kingdom and the Baltic Kingdom combined. On the model, their armies looked pathetically small facing the Soviets' and the Germanics'.

"We do have the mountain range, though." Matthias put in, moving some figures behind the aforementioned mountain range. "It will be harder to get past, so their army will be lessened by the time they enter the Baltic Kingdom."

"Yes, but-" Lukas moved the figures back- "Once they get over, they'll have the mountains at their back. It will then be harder to drive them back." He leaned back in his chair, sighing.

"We need more soldiers." Toris stated bluntly, eyes roving over the map. "We could win, of course, it's been done, but I don't want to risk anything."

Feliks opened his mouth to reply.

"I second that." Eduard said quickly, before Feliks could even speak. Feliks closed his mouth.

"You're right, and I was thinking the Asian Kingdom. They have the biggest army, and they're strong." Lukas proposed.

"We need s'mething to g've th'm," Berwald said, looking at Lukas. A silent conversation seemed to pass between the Nordics before they all turned to Lukas.

"There's Emil." Tino spoke up.

"Hold on," Lukas replied firmly. "No."

"Don't they have a prince his age? Leon, isn't it?"

"I said no." Lukas' normally monotone voice was injected with anger and fear.

"He's a big boy, he can handle it." Matthias said cheerfully, earning a glare from Lukas.

"Why don't we sell _him_ instead?" Lukas jabbed a finger in Matthias' direction.

"Hey!"

"We're not _selling_ him," Tino explained in a measured voice. "It's more like a trade."

"My little brother is too young to be marrying anyone." Lukas seethed.

"Why don't we ask him what he thinks?" Matthias suggested.

Lukas suddenly looked petrified. Tino shrugged, Berwald's expression didn't change.

"Can you get Emil?" Matthias asked a servant standing in the corner of the room. She rushed away to get him.

She reappeared a few minutes later, Prince Emil at her side. He looked confused.

"What's going on?" He asked, taking a seat next to Matthias.

"Well, you see-" Tino started, but he was interrupted by Lukas.

"They want you to get married to some kid from the Asian Kingdom." Lukas blurted.

There was a beat of silence.

Then, Emil spoke. "I see." His violet eyes were focused on his hands, clasped in front of him on the table. His face was calm, but somehow angry at the same time. He looked up, glaring daggers at anyone who would meet his gaze. "It is _not_ happening."

He stood up and stalked out of the room.

"You heard him." Lukas told the others. "It is not happening."

With that, Lukas took his leave as well.

Matthias sighed and smiled wistfully, Tino huffed and crossed his arms, Berwald bit his lip. Unsure of how to react, the Baltics just sat there.

"Those brothers are exactly alike." Matthias commented.

"Don't worry," Berwald told the Baltics. "I'll make sure th' Asian K'ngdom will b'come our allies."

"Thank you," Toris replied gratefully.

Tino gave a tight smile. "We'll win this war, no matter what."

* * *

 **I know the Axe, the Rabbit, and the Woman** **aren't real constellations, but this story isn't set in our world so i just made up my own constellations.**

 **Also, I'm really going out of my comfort zone in this fic. Germany, Estonia, the Nordics, and the Asians (minus Japan) aren't characters I'm used to writing, and most of them are essential to the plot. (Mostly Iceland, China, and Hong Kong are important to the plot for the Nordics + Asians.) If they're too OOC or I'm not doing a good job on them, please let me know!**


	5. The Meetings

**A/N: HOLY SHIT THIS CHAPTER IS WAY OVERDUE. So sorry guys. Before the chapter though, there's a few things I need to mention.**

 **1\. The letter-writing system in this fic is jacked up bc when I was planning it, I never gave any thought to it. So just pretend it's like harry potter or something, where the letters are delivered super fast via birds.**

 **2\. I keep forgetting about Greece! I left him out entirely in the Asians/Soviets scene and didn't realize till I was done. Let's just say he went off and did something else that night.**

 **3\. The next chapter is going to feel so short in comparison to this one. ugh. I really should have separated this into two chapters but its too late now.**

* * *

In the natural order of the world, Yao wouldn't be very powerful.

He was on the short side with little muscle mass, so he wouldn't be able to climb his way to the top by force. By nature he was kind, if a little possessive, and he was not suited to deception or sneakiness. He wasn't particularly good-looking either, having a plain, wide face and soft brown eyes. His artistic ability wasn't practical, those who tried to profit from art in the Asian Kingdom were only fooling themselves. Had circumstances been different, he would be nothing more than another average peasant.

Which is why he considered himself to be extremely lucky. Being born into the position of King had given him a power he couldn't have dreamed of otherwise. He was respected, feared, even revered like a deity by some.

Yao loved being powerful. It was evident in his being as he walked through the halls of Summer Palace. His posture - shoulders back, chin high - his slight smile, his determined, happy eyes. Summer Palace was furnished at the height of fashion, his clothes were made from the finest and most luxurious fabrics. He walked with content confidence, almost smirking at the sight of attendants deferring to him as soon as he walked past. The halls seemed to sigh in satisfaction as he walked through them, taking care that his steps weren't too quick.

Yao reached the end of the hallway, facing a set of double doors with golden handles. Someone pulled them open for him, and he strode into the conference room.

"Good morning," He greeted his family, seated around the big table. He sat at his customary place, the head.

"Good morning," They murmured in varying degrees of enthusiasm. Mei was the most cheerful, while Kiku sounded tired.

"A few letters came," Lien spoke up, nodding to two envelopes in the middle of the table. Yong Soo took them and handed them to Yao.

Yao turned them over in his hands. One was from the Nordic Kingdom and the other was from the Soviet Kingdom. He decided to open the letter from the Nordic Kingdom first.

He ripped open the envelope and brought out the paper with a flourish. The slight wind that it caused sent a hint of cocoa wafting to Yao's nose. He began to read the letter aloud.

"Dear King Yao,

"I am sure you're aware of the Soviet Kingdom's recent alliance with the Germanic Kingdom for the upcoming war. This has strengthened the Soviet Kingdom, which is dangerous for us. So, I propose an alliance. Following the Soviet Kingdom's example, I propose a marriage between Prince Emil and Prince Leon. They're the same age with similar interests. If you are interested, Castle Riksdaghuset is waiting, gates wide open.

"Sincerely,

"King Tino Oxenstierna."

Yao lowered the letter, looking at Kiku, Mei, Lien, and Yong Soo. None said anything, so he reached for the second letter.

"Dear King Yao,

"Our Kingdoms have been on friendly terms for almost a century now, so I hope you won't desert us in our time of need. We are not a strong Kingdom, hence we need all the soldiers we can get for this war. An alliance with your Kingdom would help us greatly. Please consider my offer. We can meet to discuss a trade, if you like.

"Sincerely,

"King Ivan Braginsky."

Yao put down the letter with a sigh. Still, no one said a word. Was it too early in the morning?

"The Nordic Kingdom is obviously the stronger side," He spoke loudly.

"Yes, and the Soviet Kingdom doesn't even have anything to give us," Lien agreed.

"What about the other sister?" Yong Soo asked, grinning. "I wouldn't mind marrying her."

"We should see all sides of it before coming to a decision," Kiku put in. "And they did say we could discuss the trade."

"Mei?" Lien nudged her wife.

"Oh, I don't really care. Actually, I'd like to see Leon get married to this Emil kid."

Yao sighed. "Alright. Kiku, you can take Leon to meet Emil. The rest of us will stay to receive the Soviets."

Yong Soo looked excited, while Kiku looked a little annoyed.

"I'll tell Leon," Mei volunteered, standing up. She left, and one by one everyone followed except Yao, who got up to find paper, pen, and ink.

Mei walked briskly through the Palace, a bounce in her step. Reaching Leon's bedroom, she knocked lightly.

"What?" He yelled. Instead of answering, Mei entered.

Leon was sitting on a chair by the window. He put down a book with an exasperated sigh as Mei walked towards him. The early morning light shone through the window and illuminated his features - fluffy black hair, thick eyebrows, smooth skin, scowling mouth. The light made the gems on his cherry red tunic glitter. He rolled his eyes at Mei.

"What is it, I was at a good part." Leon placed a satin bookmark in the book and closed it, not really paying attention to Mei.

"You're getting married."

"What?"

Mei had Leon's full attention. His head snapped up, eyes widened and jaw went slack. She giggled at his shocked expression.

"To who? And why?"

"Some kid named Emil." Mei shrugged, perching on the end of Leon's bed. She smoothed her pink dress over her knees.

"Emil?" Leon questioned. "As in, Prince Emil of the Nordic Kingdom?"

"That's him." Mei smiled.

"Why?!" Leon was on his feet, angry and bewildered.

"Well," Mei sighed, "It's actually not confirmed yet. But if you do marry him, we'll be allied with the Nordic Kingdom."

"So I get to decide?" Leon visibly relaxed."

"Not exactly..." Mei chuckled. "You get to meet him, to see if you'll get along. And then we'll decide."

" _Why?_ " Leon was angry again. "It's my life!"

Mei shrugged. "Take it up with Yao."

"Just so you know, it won't work out," Leon warned, sitting back down. "I'm sure I'll hate him. We'll be totally different. We're from opposite sides of the world!" He picked up his book again, curling his lips into a pout.

"Heracles and Kiku are from very different parts of the world," Laughed Mei, "But look at how perfect their marriage is!" She stood up, grinning down at Leon. He merely stuck his nose deeper in the book, sighing irritably.

"Don't take too long pouting," Mei advised, turning to leave the room. "Breakfast is in half an hour. And then you start packing!"

"Wait, wh-"

Mei slammed the door behind her, snickering. She couldn't wait for the wedding.

She walked down the halls towards her own bedroom, passing Kiku's on the way. A quick glance as she passed showed he was lying on the bed with Heracles.

"I'm sleepy," Heracles mumbled softly into Kiku's neck, his hands roving absently over his husband's chest. "You always are," Kiku heard himself say, as if he wasn't really there at all. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of his upcoming trip. Pigeon River ran from Lake Superior in the American Kingdom all the way to the Northern coast of the Nordic Kingdom, passing through Stockholm on the way. Which meant...

Heracles trailed kisses along Kiku's collarbone. Kiku shivered, though he wasn't cold at all.

Kiku lifted Heracles' head and kissed him, long and deep, faking the meaning that was supposed to go into a kiss like that.

When Heracles pulled away, he was smiling lazily. "Wake me up when it's breakfast time." He then rolled over and promptly began snoring.

Kiku waited a few minutes to make sure he was really asleep, then got up. He sat at his desk, pulled out a few pieces of paper, dipped his pen in ink, and began to write.

 _My Dear Alfred,_

 _Words cannot even begin to describe how much I miss you. I miss your voice, I miss your hands, I miss your lips. The Palace seems constricting lately, suffocating me with the remembrance of you. I love you dearly, with all of my heart, body, and soul. I can't stop thinking about when we might meet next, and now I think I know. I will be at Castle Riksdaghuset in three days. Meet me at the riverbank by the Castle on Tuesday at one o'clock in the morning. Come alone. Tell none. Soon, we will be able to embrace again, if only for one night._

 _Love,_

 _Kiku._

A sudden meow startled Kiku, and he gasped softly. Liakáda rubbed up against his legs and meowed again.

Kiku sealed the letter and addressed it, concealing it in the folds of his tunic. He'd get a servant to deliver it before breakfast, return, wake Heracles, and none would be the wiser.

He patted his lap, and Liakáda jumped up, purring. She butted her head against his hand.

Kiku pet his cat absentmindedly, Liakáda curling into a ball on his lap. His plan was flawless; perfect. Nothing could go wrong.

He smiled.

* * *

The carriage pulled up outside Summer Palace. It was dusk, and a chill was beginning to settle in the air. Irina stepped out of the carriage, pulling her wrap around her tighter. Her ring glinted in the twilight.

Her dress was a little looser, a little higher cut than the one she wore for the Germanics - she was betrothed, after all. The dress was a dark blue, with red strips on the collar and sleeves. More red fabric poked out of slits up the sides. Golden embroidery covered the red fabric up the sides, thick, glittery patterns of flowers and vines. More embroidery crawled up the drooping sleeves, up to the shoulders, where it curled together on Irina's breast. A headpiece of gold and garnets sparkled in her hair, matching earring dangled heavily. Irina's wrap was a piece of shimmery dark blue fabric that she had draped around her like a shawl. Her lips were painted red and she looked stunning.

Natalya's dress was even more extravagant and beautiful than her sister's. A tight bodice that accentuated her shape, low-cut neckline that exposed half her shoulders, and huge, flowing sleeves. The front part of the dress was white, but one could hardly tell as there was so much silver embroidery. The sides and back were solid black at first glance, but the fabric glittered with Natalya's every movement. Upon closer inspection, one would notice tiny diamonds sewn into the skirt, like stars in the night sky. A heavy necklace of opals rested on her collarbone, and a black bow was fastened in her hair, matching the bows on each shoulder of the dress. Natalya's lips were pale pink and her wrap was silver.

Ivan stepped out of the carriage last. "Let's go." He told his sisters.

An attendant led them down the path, through the luxurious gardens up to the front door. Like their arrival had been practised many times - and it probably had - the doors were swung open the second the siblings were within an arm's length. In the foyer of the Palace stood most of the Royal family of the Asian Kingdom. The four of them stood side-by-side, smiling pleasantly.

Mei and Lien stood on either end of the line, their dresses long and flowing but not quite as puffy as the Soviet sisters'. Mei, on the left, wore a yellow and blue dress, floral embroidery sprawling across her breast and curling around her side. Her hair was long and wavy, loose down her back and pinned t the side with a flower. Pearls glinted on her wrists and dangled from her ears. Her lips were dark pink.

Lien, on the right, wore a green and violet does, her embroidery being swirly and resembling wind. Her hair was wound into a bun and adorned with a headpiece of amethysts and silver. Her earrings were simple polished amethysts, and she wore many rings. Lien's lips were dark red.

Beside Mei stood Yong Soo, looking excited. His tunic was a simple blue and red combination, the two colours winding and twisting to make a visual harmony. The black tassels and buttons stood out sharply, complimenting his shiny hair and eyes.

Between Yong Soo and Lien stood Yao. He put the rest of his family to shame in appearances. It wasn't his clothes - though the red and gold tunic was quite striking - it was his demeanour. The way he stood with his chin held high and somehow looked down on Ivan, though Ivan was at least four inches taller than him. The way his shoulders squared, feet in heavy boots firmly on the ground. The way his eyes swept over the siblings and then locked with Ivan's for a split second.

"Welcome!" He said warmly, cocking his head to the side and smiling easily. Ivan was only a little taken aback. Somehow, he'd expected this majestic King to be cold and distant.

Ivan took Yao's hand, and the other King's warm hand disappeared into his gloved one. "It's nice to finally meet you, King Yao."

"Likewise, Ivan." Yao replied, then greeted his siblings. "Congratulations on your betrothal, Irina," He said, as Ivan shook hands with Yong Soo.

"Call me Irunya," Irina told him, smiling politely.

Once the introductions and greetings were over, the seven of them sat in the drawing room. They talked amicably, sipping small cups of bitter tea and eating nuts and seeds.

"Your gardens are so beautiful," Irina complimented. "I'm so envious of people with large, intricate gardens. I only have a small sunflower garden myself."

"Thank you," Mei smiled sweetly. "Gardening is one of my pastimes as well. I tend to the lilies."

"Those are yours?" Irina gasped. "How did you get them so strong and beautiful?"

While Irina and Mei began discussing the finer points of flower care, Lien and Natalya struck up a conversation, Yong Soo butting in with comments periodically. Ivan quietly munched a roasted chestnut.

"Would you like anything else to eat?" Yao asked Ivan suddenly.

"No, I'm fine. But thank you," Ivan replied.

"Are you quite sure?"

"Yes."

Yao sipped his tea. "All right."

Ivan was silent, listening to the conversation around him.

"Plenty of water and sunshine..."

"It feels like I'm the only sane one around here..."

"Not to be too direct," Yao said, and Ivan suddenly snapped to attention, "But I'm curious. What are you planning to offer us in return for becoming our allies?"

"What would you like?" Ivan asked feebly. In truth, he'd written the letter on a whim, a weak hope. He hadn't really considered what to give them.

"We're short on oil," Yao replied thoughtfully, fiddling with his ponytail. "Though Yong Soo expressed an interest in your younger sister."

"Maybe," Ivan told him. "We'll have to see how they get on."

Yao looked as if he was about to say something, but Yong Soo spoke quickly.

"Yao, prove me right here," He said with a challenging edge to his voice. "The Korean Peninsula produces the most rice out of the areas of the Kingdom, right?"

Yao let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "No."

Yong Soo looked affronted with Natalya smirked. Lien snorted.

"Why do you even care about agriculture, anyway?" She adjusted her headpiece.

"I need to beat you at something," He told her mournfully.

"If you want tips on agriculture, ask Irunya," Natalya mentioned. "The area she has control over produces the most bread in the Soviet Kingdom."

"I heard my name," Irina said out of the corner of her mouth, never turning her head. "And if it's not about flowers, don't talk to me."

They all laughed, Mei and Yong Soo the hardest.

"She's obsessed." Natalya rolled her eyes. "Her favourite is the sunflower."

"What's your favourite flower?" Yong Soo asked Natalya, an amused smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"My favourite?" She seemed surprised. "Sunflowers as well, I suppose. Flowers aren't exactly my favourite things though, unlike Irunya."

"Oh? So what do you like, then?" Yong Soo's brown eyes twinkled, and it became obvious; he was flirting with her.

"Knives." Natalya said dauntingly.

There was a short pause. Yao laughed nervously.

"How dangerous." Yong Soo replied lightly.

"Are you mocking me?" Natalya stared darkly into Yong Soo's eyes. Ivan, who knew his sister well enough to know when she was joking, muffled a laugh. Yong Soo, who did not know Natalya very well, looked slightly terrified.

"Not in the slightest." He tried to backpedal.

"If you are, expect a brutal attack from an invisible being!" Natalya's voice was low. This was her joke-threat voice, the one she used when she never followed up on the threat. Her real threat voice was much scarier, a high, lilting, polite but horrifying voice.

"You're not being serious, are you?" Yong Soo's voice almost trembled. Ivan considered telling him she was joking, but it was entertaining, so he decided against it.

"Of course I am. I can become invisible and attack you." Natalya decided to smile, and Yong Soo visibly relaxed.

"How?" At the mention of magic, Yong Soo was engaged and excited once more. "I've tried to become invisible for ages."

"Don't tell him," Yao spoke up suddenly. "He'll scare ten years off my life."

Yong Soo laughed lightly, patting Yao's arm. "Don't be silly. You're practically immortal, you're so old," He joked. Yao, of course, was only a few years older than Irina, but it was the way he acted that made him seem old.

Lien and Mei laughed at this comment, while Yao huffed good-naturedly.

"The concept of time is but a myth, perpetrated by human society to weaken the mind," Natalya said suddenly and gravely.

Yao looked uncomfortable and confused, while Yong Soo leaned forward in excitement, eyes widening.

"I've always thought that!" He gasped.

Ivan laughed as Natalya and Yong Soo began discussing philosophy.

"Your sister is very... Interesting," Yao said quietly to Ivan.

"We all are." Ivan shrugged. "Boring people simply don't exist."

"Very true," Yao agreed. "Even simple people have depth."

"Like our subjects."

"Exactly."

There was quiet between the two Kings for a moment.

Yao sighed. "Honestly, being a King can be quite stressful."

"Of course," Ivan responded. "It's a delicate balance between power and kindness."

"Drenched in fear."

"Absolutely."

"Gushing about your power again?" Lien entered their conversation suddenly.

"Well, it is nice," Yao defended himself.

"I won't deny that, but you could be at least a little humble," Lien advised.

"What are you talking about? I'm always humble."

The rest of the family laughed. Ivan, Irina, and Natalya joined in hesitantly.

"Humbleness is for the subjects, though," Ivan voiced thoughtfully.

"I suppose," Lien hummed. "But respect goes both ways."

"Is that what you tell yourself when you use your paddle?" Yao queried.

"My paddle is sacred!"

Yao and Yong Soo laughed.

"Do I hear you discussing your paddle, sweetheart?" Mei paused her discussion about floral arrangements to question her wife.

"Perhaps," Lien said.

"Use it sparingly, darling." Mei leaned over and kissed Lien.

"You two are so sweet," Irina sighed, almost longingly.

"Thank you," Mei replied simply.

"Don't you have a betrothed?" Lien asked Irina.

"Yes!" Irina seemed happy to be asked about her love life. "King Ludwig of the Germanic Kingdom."

"Does he treat you well?" Lien pressed.

"Of course."

"If he doesn't-"

"Oh, stop threatening violence," Mei interrupted her wife, chuckling slightly.

"It always works for me!" Natalya spoke up suddenly.

The entire company erupted into laughter. When they recovered, Yong Soo wiped his eyes and said, "In all honesty, you do turn to violence too quickly. Especially when it comes to me."

"Because you need discipline." Lien rolled her eyes.

"I do not! I am very disciplined!"

"Don't lie to me, Yong Soo."

"I'm not lying, Lien."

"If Kiku was here, he'd agree with me."

"I was wondering," Irina said, "Where is Prince Kiku? And isn't there someone else, too?"

"Prince Leon, yes," Mei informed Irina. "They've gone to meet Leon's potential husband."

"Oh, how lovely," Irina responded pleasantly. "Who is it?"

"Prince Emil of the Nordic Kingdom."

"Oh."

An uncomfortable silence fell over them. For a while, they had been able to forget alliances and battle strategies and politics. They had been able to forget the reason the Soviets were there in the first place. But with the mention of the Nordic Kingdom, the Soviet Kingdom's enemy, reality came crashing in.

"Well, supper should be ready by now," Yao said brightly, trying to dissolve the tension in the air. "Shall we eat?"

There was a murmur of assent, and the seven of them moved to the dining room. Yao made a waving motion with his hand, and servants began to bring food to the table as the company was seated.

First, there were the soups: crunchy wonton wrappers swimming in hearty broth with noodles, and hot and sour soup, tangy broth with savoury tofu and salted mushrooms. Next came steaming platters of dumplings and spring rolls, the doughy and crispy exteriors almost bursting with juicy meats and vegetables. For the main course, there was peking duck, sizzling in a mouthwatering fashion, and mounds of delicious braised vegetables, served on a warm bed of fluffy white rice. Both were dripping in thick brown sauce. To drink, they offered baiju, a vodka-like liquor, beer, and plum juice. And finally, the dessert consisted of silky, sweet egg tarts and light, gelatinous mango pudding. Hot tea was served with dessert.

Dinner was rather awkward, the elephant in the room growing bigger by the minute. By the time dinner was finished, the were exchanging uncomfortable small talk.

Most of the party were wise enough to not get too inebriated, but not Yong Soo. Maybe it was the intimidating presence of Natalya, whom he was obviously attracted to. Maybe it was the sudden silence brought on by thoughts of the war. Whatever it was, he was quite drunk by the time a lively conversation was going.

"Y'know, Irunya, I'm not surprised King Ludwig wants to marry you," He said with a lopsided smile, interrupting the conversation.

"Thank you, I suppose," Irina replied, offering a half-smile in return.

"You're a beautiful woman." He nodded wisely. Mei tittered nervously. "With a body like yours-"

"Yong Soo!" Natalya said lightly. She smiled pseudo-politely. "I'd advise you to stop talking right about now." She produced a knife, seemingly from thin air, and placed it on the table with purpose.

Yong Soo visibly shuddered.

There was silence for a few long moments. Natalya glanced around at the Asians, as if daring one of them to meet her gaze. Irina blinked rapidly. Ivan's back was stiff. Lien stared into the depths of her cup.

"Well, you three have a long trip home tomorrow," Mei said, standing up from the table. I think we should all retire for the night."

There was a scraping noise as she stood up. She took hold of Yong Soo's arm and helped him up as well. Everyone stood but Yao and Ivan, whom Yao motioned to stay where he was.

"Just follow me," Mei said, then left the room. The rest traipsed after her.

"I'd like to apologize for Yong Soo's comment," Yao told Ivan nervously. "It was crude and uncalled for. I'll see to it that he apologizes to her tomorrow."

Ivan sighed. "She's received her fair share of crude and distasteful comments; but all from mere peasants on the streets. I wouldn't have guessed a comment would come from a member of the royal family."

"I'm truly sorry," Yao apologized again.

"No worries," Ivan shook his head. "I trust it won't happen again."

"I assure you it won't." Yao responded.

They were quiet for several long moments. Then, Ivan spoke.

"Have you decided whether you're going to accept my proposal for an alliance?"

"Why do you want our help, anyway?" Yao asked in return.

"You're a strong Kingdom," Ivan began carefully. "Our Kingdoms have never had any major wars, so I figured I'd ask you for help. The Soviet Kingdom has been weak for a long time, and if we don't get back what the Baltics took from us, we'll just get weaker. We can't afford that."

"So you'll do anything for your Kingdom?" Yao asked dubiously, and Ivan nodded. "Even selling your sister?"

Ivan huffed, a little offended. "She's not a concubine, she agreed she would do it. I never forced her into anything. If she'd said no, I wouldn't have made the offer." Ivan's speech was fast and high, defending himself quickly.

"Would you have offered yourself, then?" Yao asked, raising his eyebrows.

Ivan chuckled. "King Ludwig is handsome, but he's not my type."

"Oh?" Yao's lips turned up in an open-mouthed smirk. "Then what is?"

"Hm, I don't know." Ivan cocked his head. "Smaller. Not quite as muscular. And King Ludwig struck me as over-careful. Someone who takes a bit of a risk is more my type."

"Evidently," Yao laughed. "A risk-taker would suit your passive-aggressive nature. They do say opposites attract."

"Indeed," Ivan murmured. "You know, you talk like you know me quite well."

"You're not hard to read," Yao said, standing up. He walked over to the window, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Really?" Ivan got up as well, standing beside Yao at the window. He looked out at the blackened sky. Only a few stars were visible in the sky over Beijing. "I try to be mysterious."

"You're failing," Yao stated bluntly. Ivan laughed.

"No need to remind me I'm a failure," Ivan replied playfully. "The Baltic Kingdom is proof of that."

His smile faded, he looked down. Once again, a mention of the war had ruined the air of camaraderie.

"You're not wrong," Said Yao. Ivan looked up, surprised. Yao wore a cheeky smile. His ponytail was a bit messy and hung carelessly down his back. He was looking at Ivan in a strange manner, eyebrows lifted and his face tilted coyly. "The Soviet Kingdom is a mess," He teased. "You can't run from the truth."

Ivan's stomach swooped and his mouth went dry; Yao's eyes were twinkling mischievously and his face was open and honest, and all of a sudden Ivan was leaning in closer and their lips were touching.

Yao seemed a bit surprised, in fact Ivan was surprised by his own actions. Nonetheless, he continued to kiss Yao, who hesitantly returned the kiss. It might not have been the best idea, but it was late and they'd been drinking. Ivan put his arm around Yao's waist, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. He tasted like alcohol and the food they'd eaten that night. Yao slowly placed his hand on the back of Ivan's neck. It felt cool to Ivan's flushed skin. Ivan nipped Yao's bottom lip and flicked his tongue against Yao's mouth. Yao pulled away, opening his eyes and exhaling loudly.

The two Kings stood, neither moving from their current position. Ivan had a sinking feeling he'd made a big mistake, but then again, Yao hadn't exactly protested.

"We should probably sleep," Yao said softly. Ivan felt his breath on his face. "I wouldn't want you to ruin that pretty face of yours with eyebags."

Ivan laughed again, again Yao released his neck. Ivan dropped his hand from Yao's waist, somehow feeling content but sad at the same time.

"Come on. I'll show you where your room is."

Ivan followed Yao out of the room.

* * *

Leon shivered. Even inside the carriage it was freezing, and the coat he was wearing wasn't nearly thick enough.

"I'm so cold," He said, for at least the hundredth time.

Kiku scowled at him from the other side of the carriage. "I'm well aware," He mumbled, annoyed.

Leon rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. There was a beat of silence, then Leon's teeth began chattering. Kiku squinted suspiciously, unsure if he was faking it or not.

The carriage hit a bump, and the two inside were jostled suddenly. A squelchy splash from outside told them they'd gone through a mud puddle.

A flash of lightning lit up the window. Leon stared out at the stormy night morosely.

The carriage rattled around a corner, jerking and rocking uneasily. Leon's face lit up, and he let out a sigh of relief.

"We're here," He told Kiku, who immediately looked out the window as well.

A peal of thunder rumbled loudly.

Castle Riksdaghuset sat on top of a massive hill, looking intimidatingly large. The turrets disappeared into the stormclouds, and the stone walls were slick with rain. A green moat sloshed around the castle, almost about to flood with the rainwater. Lightning flashed behind the castle, and Kiku shuddered. In the storm, it seemed eerie and terrifying.

The carriage stopped at the moat. Kiku and Leon fidgeted anxiously, waiting for the drawbridge to be lowered and for them to be let in.

Nothing happened.

"Why aren't we going in?" Leon asked. Kiku shrugged, then repeated the question to the driver.

"The guards are probably asleep at this hour," The driver suggested.

"How negligent," Kiku complained. "Can we signal them to lower the drawbridge?"

The driver seemed like he was going to make an answer, then stopped himself. "Never mind, it's being lowered now."

Kiku and Leon heard the loud creaking of wood and clanking of chains. A slam reverberated through the floor of the carriage as the drawbridge was set on the ground. With a slight thump, the carriage began to move again.

After they crossed the drawbridge, they found themselves in a small courtyard. A single man directed the carriage to a small stable off to the side.

As soon as they exited the carriage, the man bowed. "I am deeply sorry for the lack of preparation for your arrival, Prince Kiku," He said, stuttering only slightly. "King Berwald wasn't expecting Your Highness until tomorrow."

"It's all right," Kiku sighed, grateful to be out of the freezing carriage. "Please, just show Prince Leon and I to our rooms for the night."

"Yes, Your Highness," The man responded immediately. "Come this way."

He led them through a door in the stables, entering a dark, winding staircase. They climbed the stairs for a few long moments before going through another door to a hallway.

"Prince Leon, this is your room for tonight and tomorrow night," He said, opening a heavy wooden door. "Prince Kiku, yours is the the one on the right. A servant will wake you for breakfast. Sleep well." With a slight bow, the man left the way they came.

Leon and Kiku looked at each other.

"Well, goodnight," Leon said.

"Get some sleep," Kiku replied. "You'll need your energy for Emil tomorrow."

"Shut up."

Kiku chuckled, and then they entered their respective rooms. Once in their nightclothes, they fell into bed and slept soundly until the next morning.

In the morning, songbirds chirped in the courtyard of Castle Riksdaghuset. The morning was a chilly one, the storm from the night before leaving everything sopping. In the dining room, the Nordics and their guests were enjoying breakfast.

King Berwald was seated at the head of the table, his husband to his right and Prince Lukas to his left. Beside King Tino was Prince Matthias, and beside him was Kiku. On the other side of the table, beside Lukas, was Prince Emil, and next to him was Leon.

"I'm really sorry about last night," Tino apologized to Kiku. "We weren't expecting you until this afternoon."

"It's our fault," Kiku shrugged. "We should have been clearer about the date in our letter." Kiku internally cursed Yao for messing up.

"If I'd written the letter, you wouldn't have come at all," Emil mumbled. Leon snorted.

"I have to say, the weather in your Kingdom is much colder than we prepared for," Kiku remarked. "We nearly froze on the way here."

"Frozen like my heart," Emil commented quietly.

"It's what comes with being the northernmost Kingdom," Tino replied, smiling politely. "We're all used to it."

"Wimps," Emil said under his breath, then jumped when Lukas jabbed him in the ribs.

"Oh, Emil," Tino smiled across the table at him, "Why don't you show Leon some of your poetry?"

Leon turned to him, mouth open. "You write poetry?"

Emil shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Yeah."

"Can I read it?" Leon grinned.

Emil shrugged. "Sure."

The two got up and left the room. The five still at the dining table waited until the sound of their footsteps faded before speaking again.

"So," Matthias started, glancing around the table. "This war."

Kiku sighed. "We weren't planning on getting involved, but when you sent us the invitation, we decided to see your side of it."

"So the marriage isn't guaranteed?" Lukas asked, before eating a slice of bread.

"Not yet," Kiku conceded, though in his mind he hoped the two would marry.

Lukas looked relieved, but Berwald looked confused.

"Wait." He held up a hand. "Y' said our s'de. Who else's s'de are y' see'ng?"

"Last night, King Ivan and his siblings visited King Yao in Beijing to discuss an alliance," Kiku answered, knowing he'd set off alarm bells in Berwald's head.

"Oh."

Meanwhile, Emil and Leon were seated in Emil's study, in front of his desk. After much consideration, Emil had selected a poem for Leon to read, who was now reading it out loud.

"When fire floods ice and the gods' wrath is sparked to the sea, the snake of death wraps tight as a vice and smothers thee," Leon finished. He lowered the paper and peeked at Emil, who was sitting on his hands nervously. There was a slight pink tinge to his cheeks.

"This is really good," Leon told him, brown eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

Visible relief flooded Emil's face. He lifted his hands from beneath his thighs. There were red lines across his pale palms. "Thank you," He replied, then smiled. Not the snide smirks he'd been giving all breakfast, but a real, happy one. Leon found himself thinking that a smile suited Emil.

"You know, you're not too bad." Leon propped his chin up on his hands. "I thought you'd be a lot different. Cold and haughty."

"I thought the same of you," Emil confessed with a slight laugh.

"I just wish Yao and the others had asked me before sending me across the world to meet my potential spouse." Leon rolled his eyes. "They act like I can't possibly understand what's good for the Kingdom."

"My family does that to me too." Emil tucked a strand of white-blond hair behind his ear. "They all treat me like a child, and especially Lukas. He's not even really my older brother, but he acts like it. He's overprotective and overbearing and always wants me to call him my brother." Emil's speech sped up and he furrowed his brows in annoyance. "He's so irritating sometimes! And so is Matthias, he drinks way too much beer, and Tino's constant cheerfulness is kind of creepy and even Berwald irritates me with his monotone voice!" He huffed.

Leon gave a short laugh. "I know the feeling. Some days I feel like everyone is condescending to me. I went to live with King Arthur for a few months, and honestly the best part was not having to see my family." He laughed again.

Emil cocked his head. "Why were you living with King Arthur for a couple months?"

Leon rolled his eyes once more. "Yao had a phase where he was obsessed with other Kingdoms' cultures. He sent us all to other Kingdoms for a while. So I went to the North European Kingdom, Kiku went to the American Kingdom, Yong Soo went to the Germanic Kingdom, and Mei and Lien went to the South European Kingdom. Personally, I think he did it so he could get the Palace all to himself for three months."

Emil chuckled, then they both fell silent. There was a comfortable lull.

Then Leon said, "So, do you have any more poetry to show me?"

Emil opened the desk drawer and pullout a bundle of papers tied together with string. "Lots."

The two talked, laughed, read and wrote poetry in Emil's study until a bell sounded, signalling lunch was ready. Emil left the room before Leon, stating he was starved, so Leon was gathering up the papers alone when he heard someone enter the room.

Looking up, he saw it was Lukas. Even though he and Emil might not be related, Leon could see some resemblance; in the pale skin, white-blond hair, and ice blue eyes.

"Oh, hello," He said conversationally, placing the stack of Emil's poetry on the desk carefully.

Lukas leaned up against the doorframe, blocking the way out. His face seemed expressionless, but somehow, waves of controlled anger rolled off him.

Leon began to feel a bit nervous.

He walked towards the door, then stopped when Lukas said, "Leon."

"Yes?"

"If you dare to hurt him-"

"You'll kill me?"

"You guessed it," Lukas told him. "And believe me, your death won't be quick or painless at all."

Leon nodded slowly.

"Now go get lunch." Lukas moved, and Leon left quickly, not daring to look back.

* * *

The White Palace was cold that night, the frost on the windows seemingly seeming into the Palace. To conserve body heat, Matthew and Gilbert were wrapped in each other on a small sofa, a fire crackling merrily nearby. A joker played the violin softly in the corner of the room, and Matthew hummed the familiar melody. His blond head rested on Gilbert's chest. He could hear his heartbeat and feel the vibrations of his voice as he spoke, as he'd been doing for the last half hour.

"I don't like it. I don't like it one bit," He was saying. "I don't trust Ivan as far as I can throw Roddy's piano, and that's not far at all. But we need the land. That damn traitor Feliks," He grumbled.

"I understand," Matthew breathed, too tired to add in his own opinion.

Gilbert shifted, looking down at Matthew. "You could help us, too."

Matthew pried his eyes open and tilted his head up. "I'd have to run it past Alfred," He said. "And I don't want him thinking we'll be married soon. If he thought that, he'd rush to find somebody before we were even betrothed." _Or rush Kiku to annul his marriage,_ Matthew thought. "Being twins and sharing the title of King is hard enough without this race to get married. But lucky for us, we can sneak around. When we do marry - no pressure on you, though - we can do it so quick he won't have time to blink. And then we'll be married and Kings and he'll be just Prince Alfred." Matthew shifted back into a more comfortable position. "Alfred doesn't understand stealth."

"By the way, where is he tonight?" Gilbert asked. "I haven't seen him once."

"He's probably in the east wing." Matthew shrugged.

Unbeknownst to Gilbert, Alfred was no where near the east wing. He was currently on a boat, gently gloating up to Castle Riksdaghuset. The green waves lapped gently against the hull of the boat, and he shivered in the cold wind. Alfred glanced at the letter Kiku had written. _One o'clock in the morning,_ it said. It was one o'clock.

A hole opened up in the stone wall, and Kiku's face peered out. It was a secret door! Alfred maneuvered the boat over to the door and dropped the anchor.

Alfred stepped from the boat not the door, and Kiku swung it shut behind them.

Before either of them could say anything, Kiku enveloped him in a passionate kiss. Alfred smiled into the kiss and threaded his fingers through Kiku's hair, reminding himself of how he smelled and tasted. It had been too long since they'd kissed.

Kiku broke away and smiled. "You came," He whispered.

"Of course," Alfred replied.

Kiku took his head. "Come on," He said, starting to walk. "Back to my room for the night. We have to be quiet though."

All the way to Kiku's room, Alfred nipped his ear and kissed his neck and whispered things to him. When they reached the room, they wasted no time in slipping in and closing the door.

In the next room over, Leon woke with a start.

At first, he didn't realize what had woken him. But when he tried to move his left arm, he realized. During sleep, he'd rolled over onto his arm, and the weight of his body had made it go numb. He sat up in the bed and shook his arm aggressively, feeling pins and needles poke him. When the feeling came back into his arm, he noticed there were goosebumps on it.

He shivered. He truly wasn't used to this climate. He'd have to find another blanket.

Agonizingly slowly, Leon lifted the blanket. He looked at the cold floor, and decided to get it over with.

He hopped out of bed.

The undersides of his feet hit the freezing floor and a bolt of shock went through his legs. He gritted his teeth and crossed the room, to where a pair of slippers and a dressing gown were. He put them on and exited the room.

It was all dark in the hallway, and quiet, too. It was the nice, sleepy quiet, the one that nestled around you like a soft blanket.

No, wait. There was a noise. Leon strained his ears. It was coming from Kiku's door.

Leon padded softly down the carpeted hall. There was a bit of distance between his door and Kiku's, and as he crept closer, the sound got louder.

He approached Kiku's door and tilted his head.

He heard groans, a mixture of swearwords, and the sound of movement.

"Alfred..."

That was Kiku's voice. A deeper groan accompanied it, and though Leon had never met him, there was no doubt it was King Alfred's.

Leon stood there, momentarily paralyzed, as the sounds kept coming. The bed creaked, soft moans floated through the wall.

And then it clicked, and he gasped loudly and stumbled back with wide, horrified eyes. Kiku and Alfred, Alfred and Kiku...

He turned back and walked away quickly, still in a mild state of shock. He glanced back for a moment, mouth slightly agape, and bumped into someone.

"Oof!"

Leon took a step back. He'd bumped into Emil, clad in ice blue sleep clothes. The sight of the colour grounded Leon, made him remember just how freezing it was.

"Bit late to be wandering the halls, wouldn't you say?" Emil asked, smirking.

Leon mentally shook himself. "I was cold. Do you have any extra blankets?"

Emil thought. "I think I might know where they are." He snickered. "Let's play a game of 'How Fast Can I Find The Nearest Linen Closet?'"

Leon smiled. "All right."

Emil beckoned, and led him down the hall, thankfully away from Kiku's door.

They wandered through Castle Riksdaghuset for a long while before finding a linen closet. First, Emil thought it was near the servants' quarters, but all that led to was a confrontation with an angry, tired maid. Then, they checked every closet on the main floor and paraded through the halls where Emil and his family slept. They finally found one at the end of that hall, near Emil's bedroom.

"Hey, Emil?" Leon said softly, as Emil opened the closet.

"Yeah?" Emil rummaged around in the closet, finding pillow covers and mattress covers but no blankets.

"Did you think I looked pale when we bumped into each other earlier?"

Emil paused. "A little. Why?" He resumed his search.

Leon fidgeted, looked at his feet. "I heard something."

"Aha!" Emil pulled a blanket out of the closet and turned around, shutting the door. "Got one."

"That's good," Leon replied feebly, "Would you like to know what I heard?"

Emil began to walk down the hallway. "Sure."

"Kiku and King Alfred making love."

Emil stopped walking.

Then he laughed, a loud, amused peal that reverberated off the walls around them. "Well damn," He said. "I thought I had some good gossip with Lukas and Matthias."

He started walking again, and Leon jogged to catch up. "Lukas and Matthias?" He asked, falling into step beside Emil.

"Yes," Emil confirmed. "It's been going on for a while. They're probably making love right now."

"Wow." Leon shook his head. They turned a corner and began climbing a flight of stairs. "I would never have guessed."

Emil's lip curled into a teasing grin. "So much of it in one place, I'm surprised every surface isn't sticky."

Leon snatched his hand off the polished wooden handrail. "You are a filthy human being."

All Emil did was laugh.

They climbed the rest if the stairs in silence, walked down the hall quietly and entered Leon's bedroom softly. The blanket was heavy, so both of them were needed to spread it over the bed. Once Leon was in bed, Emil began to walk to the door.

"Hey, Emil?" Leon called. His voice was tired, his eyes were drooping.

Emil turned around. "Yes?"

"Have you ever courted before?"

Emil paused, looking at his feet. He wiggled his toes. "Yes," He replied hesitantly. "A girl named Michelle. She was nobody, really. She was visiting here from the South European Kingdom. She was cold, I offered her a coat, we got to know each other. We dated in secret for a few months before she had to go back. That's my story, I guess."

"Damn," Leon mumbled. "I was hoping you'd say no."

"Why?" Emil cocked his head. "Have you ever courted?"

Leon didn't answer.

Emil laughed fondly. "Goodnight, Leon."

* * *

 **A/N: ey yo its me, the ultimate trashbag. I knOw the actual island of Seychelles is nowhere near southern europe, but there weren't** **enough characters to make an african kingdom. Also: I cringed every time I typed 'making love' but it's the only alternate phrase I know for 'having sex'.**

 **Anyywayyy I hope you liked the latest chapter! If you did, review! And if you didnt, review and tell me what I could improve on!**


	6. The Speech

**A/N: Yikes sorry for not updating in a while. I've had this written for eons I've just been too lazy to type it up. Also, are any of you watching yuri on ice? I just realized the other day that Feliks and Toris' dynamic in this fic is kind of like Victor and Yuri's.** **Anyway, enjoy as always!**

* * *

A fire crackled merrily in the corner of the dining room in Castle Riksdaghuset, warming the royal family as they ate lunch. A lively conversation was gong around the table, which mostly consisted of Matthias and Lukas arguing. Occasionally, Tino chipped in with a comment, but other than that the three listened to them argue. Emil hid a smile behind a piece of bread. They weren't making an effort to hide it at all.

An attendant approached the table and cleared his throat to catch Berwald's attention. Berwald turned with a, "Hm?"

"A letter from King Yao of the Asian Kingdom, your highness." The attendant said, handing a letter to Berwald.

Berwald took it. "Th'nk you."

With a slight bow, the attendant left the room.

Berwald had everyone's attention as he opened the letter, even Matthias'. It had been a few days since Kiku and Leon had returned to their own Kingdom, and this was the first they'd heard from them.

Berwald unfolded the paper and read it quickly, sea-green eyes flicking back and forth behind his spectacles.

"What does it say?" Lukas asked, once Berwald had put down the paper.

"Prince Leon agrees t' our bus'ness marriage, b't only if Em'l is alright w'th it as w'll," He replied shortly. Tiny took the letter and passed it to Lukas, who scanned it quickly.

Emil peered over Lukas' shoulder at the letter. He looked up, and realized everyone was waiting for him to say something.

"Well," He began slowly, "Leon wasn't as bad as I thought he was going going to be. And besides, I'd like to get to know him a bit better. So, yes. I'll marry him."

Matthias and Tino smiled. Lukas frowned worriedly.

"If he hurts you at all, I'm going to make him hurt twice as bad," He threatened.

"Calm down, big brother," Emil muttered.

Lukas dropped his fork.

"Did you... Just call me... Big brother?" He asked hesitantly, like he couldn't quite believe it.

Matthias whooped, TIno broke out into laughter, and Lukas wiped a tear away. Even Berwald cracked a rare smile.

Emil just sat there.

"It's not a big deal..." He said, but he was drowned out by Matthias' cheering.

"A toast!" Matthias held up his glass. "To Emil's marriage, and to recognizing his big brother!"

Everyone held up their glasses, and Emil followed suit with an amused chuckle.

Once they'd clinked glasses and downed their beverages, Berwald said, "Why don't y' write th' letter t' King Yao 'nd tell him t' proceed w'th th' betrothal?"

"Me?" Emil cocked his head.

"You," Tino smiled.

Emil got up from the table, and happily skipped out of the room. The four exchanged a glance, and then kept eating.

* * *

Raivis sighed. He liked spending time with Eduard, of course he did. However, even Eduard's voice seemed to drone on after long periods of complaining.

"Oh, I don't know, Raivis," He was saying. He was pacing the room slowly, hands gesturing as he talked. "I'm not quite happy with the current state of things."

Raivis wanted to say something like, _you've made that very clear,_ but he wisely stayed silent.

Edusrd paced a few more steps, apparently finished talking for the moment. The noontime sun shone on him from the windows, making his neatly combed blond hair almost glow. His eyes flashed behind his spectacles and his lips were pink from licking them too often - a nervous habit. His shoulders were square and his back was stiffly upright.

"I should have been King," Eduard stated. He stopped pacing; scowled. "I probably would have had Feliks not appeared on our doorstep."

Raivis idly wondered if Eduard blamed him for losing the Kingship to Toris. Perhaps Eduard felt betrayed by Raivis. After all, Raivis did help him plan what he was going to say to Toris. And then, he said he had no preference of a King when earlier he implied he supported Eduard.

Ravins looked up, then started when he saw Eduard staring at him with a critical eye. He forced himself to make a reply to Eduard's comment.

"Isn't having Feliks on our side a good thing?" He locked eyes with Eduard, though his stomach was bubbling like water at a boil. "He is certainly a valuable asset."

"I suppose." Eduard resumed pacing, tipping his head to the mural on the ceiling. "He angers me, is all." His boots clicked on the floor rhythmically. "He acts as if he's the King. He tells Toris what to do, and he's Prince Feliks when he should only be Lord Feliks. If this continues, he'll take the throne."

Raivis sighed again. In his opinion, Eduard's dislike of Feliks was unfounded. He wasn't planning on telling him this, though.

Quiet followed for a few moments. Ravins wanted to speak up, as there was something on his mind that had been plaguing him for quite some time. He took a few deep breaths, preparing to speak.

He'd opened his mouth and was about to say something when there was a loud knock at the door.

Raivis let out the breath he'd been holding.

A second later, Toris poked his head in. "Kings Tino and Berwald are here," He said.

He beckoned, then disappeared. Eduard looked at Raivis, waiting for him to rise from his seat. He did so, and with a smile, fell into step beside Eduard.

They made their way to the large conference room, and greeted Kings Tino and Berwald. They looked pleased.

"We have good news," King Tino announced after the pleasantries.

"i'd be delighted to hear some good news," Toris replied warmly. Feliks, seated on Toris' right, nodded.

"S'veral days ago," Began Berwald, "I pr'posed a bus'ness marriage b'tween my Pr'nce Emil and Pr'nce Leon of th' Asian Kingdom. And aft'r a meet'ng, in which th'y got t' know each oth'r, they've agreed t' marry. Thus, we have s'cured th' Asian Kingdom as an ally 'n th' war."

Toris smiled widely. Eduard smiled happily. Toris' smile was infectious; Raivis felt himself grinning and Feliks was smiling fondly.

"We should make some sort of announcement to the people," Feliks spoke. Ravins could almost feel the waves of annoyance rolling off Eduard.

"In but a few short days, their government has changed drastically," He continued. "We should let them know who their new rulers are and assure them if a war comes, we will be ready for it."

"That's an excellent idea," Toris agreed. Feliks smirked at the praise. "Who will say the speech?"

There was a pause.

"You will, Toris," Raivis said quietly. "You are the King."

"Oh, um." Toris shifted in his seat nervously. "Public speaking is not exactly something I am skilled at. Eduard can do it."

"When y' become a King, y' have t' do th'ngs that may n't be pleas'nt for you f'r the sake of y'r Kingdom," Berwald told Toris, a bit sternly. "You are King, 'nd it is y'r duty to inf'rm y'r Kingdom of their ch'nge of governm'nt. Y' will do the speech."

There was another pause. Toris flushed sensitively.

"Don't fret," Feliks added cheerily. "If you need help writing it, I'd be more than happy to assist you."

"As would I," Eduard said quickly.

Raivis sighed.

* * *

Ivan glanced at the letter on the table apprehensively. It'd come half an hour ago, and had lain there ever since. He was glad he was finally hearing from King Yao, but he was also terrified of what the letter would contain.

 _You're a King,_ he chastised himself. _You can handle whatever's in that envelope._ Though, as he ran his eye down Yao's perfect cursive on the envelope, he did not feel he could handle it.

With a sigh, Ivan closed his eyes and reached for the envelope. He tore it open and pulled the paper out, then slowly opened his eyes.

 _Dear King Ivan,_

 _My apologies for the delay in following up your visit. I had to take a great deal of time to reflect upon the choice before me. It was not an easy decision. I agree we get along quite well, and I admit that it would be nice if we could meet again sometime in the future. However, this cannot happen, as I have decided to ally with the Nordic Kingdom. There is nothing I dislike about you, of course, the Nordic Kingdom is simply the more formidable ally. As of now, we are enemies, and perhaps I shouldn't even be writing this to you. I hope you will not lose sleep over this matter._

 _Sincerely,_

 _King Wang Yao._

Ivan lowered the paper, thinking. He was never one to give up, so why should he do so in this case? Yao may have allied with the Nordic Kingdom for the political benefit after the war, but Ivan had an advantage: Yao liked him.

Or at least - Ivan frowned as he reached for paper and ink - he thought he did.

Dipping his pen in navy blue ink, he began to write.

 _Dear King Yao,_

 _Despite your alliance with the Nordic Kingdom, I wish to meet in person to discuss this matter once more. Tomorrow, I shall be waiting at the border between our Kingdoms, in the city of Kyakhta. Look for the carriage with the crest of the Soviet Kingdom on each door. It will be wise of you to come._

 _I look forward to seeing you soon,_

 _King Ivan Braginsky._

He sealed the letter, addressed it to Yao, then tapped a small bell. In mere moments, a servant was by his side.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" The servant asked. Ivan handed him the letter.

"Deliver this, then find my sisters. I need to talk to them."

"Yes, Your Majesty," The servant repeated, then dashed off.

In ten minutes, Ivan's sisters were seated at the table beside him.

"Well, we have a wedding to plan," He said, by way of greeting.

"That's right," Irina responded, smiling. She seemed happy at the mention of it, and Ivan took this as a good sign.

"Of course, the wedding will be in the Germanic Kingdom," Ivan continued. Irina nodded. Natalya examined her fingernails. "And, of course, you'll want to be consulted while planning the wedding."

"Naturally," Irina agreed.

"So I thought you two should stay with King Ludwig for the next two weeks." Ivan glanced at Natalya. She suddenly looked interested. "I'll stay here and worry about the war while you two stay with Ludwig and plan the wedding."

"Excellent idea," Irina said. She stood. "Is that all?" Ivan nodded. "I'll be going, then." Irina left the room.

Ivan reached for another sheaf of paper. He needed to let Ludwig know about this. He dipped his pen in ink.

"I know why you really want us gone," Natalya spoke up.

A drop of blue ink fell upon the paper.

"You do?" He asked hesitantly.

"You have a lover, don't you?" She accused.

Ivan put down his pen. "Of course I don't."

"You're lying." She stated.

"Why would I lie?" He asked innocently.

"Why wouldn't you lie?" She countered. "Besides, you're always like this when you lie."

Ivan gulped.

"I want to know everything," Natalya pressed. "Who is it? Do I know them? Are they from another Kingdom? Are they a civilian? Are-"

"I DON'T HAVE A LOVER!" Ivan yelled.

Natalya scowled, then left the room in a huff.

 _Not yet, anyway,_ he thought.

* * *

Alfred yawned, leaning back in his chair and stretching. Golden light fell upon him from the window. A slight smirk adorned his lips. He seemed happy, content.

And then he choked on a grape.

Matthew burst out laughing as Alfred attempted to cough up the grape.

"Stop... Laughing!" Alfred choked between coughs. This only made Matthew laugh harder.

Alfred picked a grape off the stalk sitting in a china bowl on the table between them, and threw it at his brother. Matthew dodged it, and it landed on the tile floor. It rolled over to the doorway. A servant picked it up.

"The Great King Alfred, everyone," Matthew remarked sarcastically.

"Shut up, Matty," Alfred grumbled. Matthew snickered. "You shouldn't be lounging and eating grapes, anyway. Don't you have things to do?"

"That goes for you as well." Matthew popped a grape into his mouth. "Budgets to plan, papers to sign."

Alfred groaned. "I don't want to think about work right now."

Matthew sighed. "I understand. With the war between the Soviet Kingdom and the Baltic Kingdom..." He trailed off.

"It seems like everyone is picking sides for it," Alfred replied. "So many alliances will only lead to a war that destroys the world."

"Well," Matthew mumbled. "We might want to support the Germanic Kingdom in this. We're going to have to, as I'm courting Gilbert. If we stayed neutral, I could lose him."

"I know that, but-" Alfred leaned forward in his chair- "I thought we would ally with the Asian Kingdom."

"But why?" Matthew asked, knowing exactly why.

Alfred shrugged. "They're obviously the stronger side."

"You goddamn liar!" Matthew burst out, pointing a finger at his brother. "You just want to be able to see Kiku more often!"

"That's the entire reason _you_ want to ally with the Germanic Kingdom!" Alfred defended.

"The point of an affair is to keep it a secret!" Matthew rolled his eyes.

"What, you don't trust me to be discreet?"

"Frankly, no!" Matthew threw his hands up in the air. "Subtlety isn't exactly one of your strengths."

"I can be subtle!" Alfred crossed his arms.

Matthew snorted. "Yeah, alright. Say that again the next time you write a letter to him."

"Fuck you," Alfred sputtered, then got up and stormed out of the room.

Matthew threw a grape at his brother's retreating back. It missed.

* * *

"Wait, no no no! Feliks?"

Feliks put down his pen. "Yes?"

The two were in one of the many conference rooms in Castle Kaunas, attempting to write the speech. They'd started almost immediately after Kings Tino and Berwald left, at around one o'clock. It was three now.

"Let me see it," Toris said, pulling the piece of paper over to him. Feliks had crossed out a good portion of what he'd written, and either reworded it or just left it out entirely. Toris slumped, feeling useless.

"I can't do this," He muttered.

"Of course you can," Feliks replied, which got on Toris' nerves a bit. Maybe this was easy for people like Feliks and Eduard, but not for him.

"I'm being serious. I should hand the Kingship over to Eduard while I can. I'm not cut out for this." Toris rubbed at his eyes. "He'd be a much better King than me."

"Do you really think that?" Feliks asked. Toris nodded. "Well, I don't. You're the best person out of the four of us to be King. Because you're wise, and you're kind, and with some practise I'm sure you can be a confident, charismatic leader."

Toris blinked a few times. He wasn't expecting that. "Well, thank you."

"Now read what we have so fare." Feliks put on an encouraging smile, so Toris complied.

"Ladies and gentlemen," He began, his voice wavering, "good citizens. My name is Toris Laurinaitus. Uh, some of you way know me as a- uh, a L-lord over a s-section of the- of _this_ territory." Toris gulped. In his mind's eye, he was picturing a sea of faces; judgemental, angry ones. He felt his cheeks going red. "Those of y-you who knew me, or know me, sorry, may also be f-familiar with my, uh, rep-reputation." After struggling to get through the word 'reputation', he sighed and threw down the paper. It landed softly, like snow. Toris' eyes were closed, though he could feel Feliks' eyes on him. It aggravated him.

"I can't do it!" He told Feliks, eyes still shut. "I can't write a speech and I can't deliver one either. The prospect of speaking to thousands of people terrifies me. I'd rather jump off the highest tower of this castle than see their scornful faces looking up at me."

"First of all, stop thinking like that." Feliks' voice had an edge to it, unlike the painfully soothing voice he'd used all afternoon. Toris felt better hearing it. "Stop thinking in 'can't's. Stop thinking you're going to fail, or mess up. If you overthink something, you're more likely to mess up. You need to relax. Where's you're favourite place?"

Toris opened his eyes. "What?"

"Your favourite place," Feliks repeated. "Is there a place you like to go, that always feels welcoming and secure?"

"Uh, yes." Toris flicked his eyes back and forth uneasily. "The library."

"Why there?" Feliks asked, and Toris could tell the question wasn't part of whatever calming exercise Feliks was going to have him do. He was curious.

Toris answered quietly, "Because the books always understand me."

Feliks smiled softly, his first one in a while. Toris suddenly realized how much he like Feliks' easy smile. "I know what you mean."

Feliks gazed at him for a moment, then spoke again. "So pretend you're alone in the library, with stacks of dusty books around you. It's midmorning, and the sunlight that filters in through the stained glass windows illuminates the pages waiting to be turned. Take a deep breath, you feel comfortable, at ease. Now begin."

Toris took a deep breath, and, picturing the scene Feliks had laid out for him, started to read.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good citizens. My name is Toris Laurinaitus. Some of you may know me as a Lord over a section of this territory. Those of you who know me may also be familiar with my reputation: a kind, somewhat lenient, though respected and generous Lord. When I accepted this role I did not think much of it; I was born into the position and took hold of it when I was eighteen, as all Lords do. However, being a Lord has shaped my character. It has opened my eyes to the trials and tribulations faced by the people, faced by you. It has shown me how truly lucky I am to be in the the position I am in, and through my Lordship I have tried to take that mentality with me wherever I went. I believe this has made me a better ruler, ready and willing to consider how decisions I make shall be viewed from your angle."

Wild clapping met Toris' ears, and he opened his eyes with a shy smile.

"That worked very well," He commented, when Feliks had stopped clapping. "I'm surprised it calmed me down so."

Feliks shrugged. "It's a trick I use often. I get anxious around strangers, so I think of my favourite place to calm myself."

"What is your favourite place?" Toris asked. He felt lighter now, relieved.

"There's a field I like to go to," Feliks began, his eyes glazing over. "It's filled with so many flowers that even on a dark day it's bright and colourful. But I like it best just after it rains. The grass is as intensely green as acid, the soft mist in the air feels like a cool blanket. I like to walk barefoot when it's like that."

There was a sweet silence, one of camaraderie and contentedness.

"Hey, you wore purple." Feliks grinned, snapping out of his reverie. "You look good."

Toris glanced down at his tunic in some surprise. It was true, he'd picked it out keeping in mind what Feliks had said. He didn't think Feliks would notice, though.

"Oh, thank you." He said modestly.

Feliks sighed, but a happy sigh. "Well, the rest of the speech won't write itself!"

"How I wish it would," Toris replied. Feliks laughed.

The rest of the time spent writing the speech seemed to pass quickly. Toris had more ideas, more confidence after the calming exercise, and Feliks welcomed them with more ease. they worked together naturally, ideas and words and themes passing between them and being scrawled excitedly on paper. Toris seemed more Kingly, producing noble words and sentimental ideals, and Feliks did not attempt to hide the fact he was impressed. After another two hours, the first draft was done, and feeling pleased with himself, Toris suggested they edit the next day.

So at five o'clock, Feliks headed for his bedroom to take a much-deserved nap.

Unfortunately, when he was almost there, he was intercepted by Raivis.

"Hey, Feliks," He said, standing in between Feliks and his bedroom. Feliks didnt understand how such a small man could feel like a barricade, but he did. "I saw you editing the speech with Toris earlier."

"You did?" Feliks asked, wondering what Raivis' point was.

"I can see what you're doing with him," Raivis continued. "You're getting him to fall for you."

Feliks brought his eyes down to meet Raivis'. He was more shrewd than Feliks had suspected.

"You caught me," He admitted, shrugging. "And why exactly is this important to you?"

Ravins looked around, then leaned in. He smirked, an expression that looked odd on his innocent, youthful face.

"I need you to teach me how to do the same with Eduard."


	7. The Rejection

**It feels like it's been way too long since I last updated this. Hopefully I'll get better at updating quicker. My new year's resolution is to update this fic once a month. Anyway, enjoy.**

* * *

Ludwig straightened up, pushing his shoulders back and raising his chin. Irina and her sister were due to arrive any minute, and he had to be prepared.

He pulled King Ivan's letter from the pocket of his dark blue tunic and scanned it quickly. Yes, they would be arriving soon.

He was standing in the foyer of Sanssouci Palace, Gilbert at his side. The visit was a casual enough one that didn't require fancy clothes or more servants, but important enough that they give them a proper welcome. It would be quite rude if only Ludwig were to greet them.

The front door swung open, and Natalya and Irina walked in. Many servants trailed after them, carrying luggage and belongings.

Irina smiled at Ludwig, rather unsure of how to greet him. She settled on a simple, "Good morning."

Irina was dressed nicely, but comfortably. Her dress had a puffy skirt but the corset was not tied to tight. The dress was made from comfortable black cotton, with an overskirt of heavy green wool, thick with intricate gold embroidery. The three-quarter sleeves had two large puffs of green wooden fabric, slit down the middle to reveal soft white lace poking out. The square neckline was heavily embroidered in gold. Her jewellery was simple as well; attached to her bosom was a silver chain, and a similar one was tied around her waist, with two tails hanging to the hem of her dress. On her wrists were silver bracelets and she wore silver hoop earrings. Her hair, as always, was in its pleated updo.

Natalya's dress was more striking, as the dark red and black fabric stood out against her pale hair and skin. The sides and back of the dress were black, with a strip of red running down the front. The red fabric was finely embroidered, a pattern of roses blossoming up in silver thread. The sleeves of the dress, which hung low, were red as well, turning to black once it reached her elbow. She wore a silver necklace and in her hair was a dark red bow.

If Irina had bothered to look, she would have seen a pink flush crawling up Ludwig's neck.

"Good morning, Irunya," he offered in response. "I'm glad you've come." He then stepped forward, a tad awkwardly, and took her hand. She offered her cheek, and he pressed his lips to it. It was the customary greeting for the betrothed in the Germanic Kingdom.

"Good morning to you too, Natalya," Ludwig said, then offered a hand to her. She shook it listlessly.

"Good morning, Gilbert. Nice to see you again," Irina smiled as she shook his hand.

"You too, Irunya. And you, Natalya." Gilbert shook hands with both the sisters.

"Your belongings are being brought to your rooms," Ludwig told them. Gilbert nodded at an attendant. The attendant scurried past, attempting to cary three trunks at once. "Would you like me to show you to them? You must be fatigued from the trip here."

"Thank you," Irina said. Indeed, they'd raised rather early to make it here by ten o'clock in the morning. Despite the lack of sleep, she'd done some thinking on the way over, and was eager to share her thoughts on the wedding with Ludwig.

Ludwig beckoned, then turned away. The sisters followed. Irina fell into step beside Ludwig and struck up a conversation, leaving Natalya to walk behind them.

Ludwig led the sisters down a familiar hallway, to the same pair of rooms they slept in the night of the betrothal.

"Well, these will be your rooms," Ludwig stated. A servant opened Natalya's door and began bringing her things inside.

"We don't get to share a room until we're married?" Irina joked, faking a disappointed voice.

"No," he responded, to which she tittered. "Are you tired, If you'd like, you can nap before we start discussing wedding plans."

"Oh, no. I don't need a nap. In fact, I have many thoughts about the wedding that I'd like to share with you. As soon as possible."

"Well, I'll take a nap," Natalya piped up, then retreated into her assigned room.

Ludwig and Irina looked at each other. "Shall I fetch the wedding planner, then?"

"Yes please," replied Irina. "Where will we meet?"

"In the medium-sized conference room," Ludwig told her. He took her hand and kissed it. They then parted.

Irina walked through the halls of Sanssouci Palace, greeting every servant and chambermaid she saw along the way. Marrying Ludwig meant being the lady of the household, and that was rather exciting. Though Irina was the eldest of her siblings, Ivan had all the power at Castle Kremlin. So she was ready to finally have a say in something.

When Irina reached the medium-sized conference room, Ludwig and the wedding planner were already there. Ludwig introduced her to him, a chubby old man by the name of Uwe. He was nice enough, but he had has own ideas that opposed what Irina wanted.

"We cannot have the wedding at sunset." Uwe shook his head. "Sunrise is best. It conveys a sense of purity and innocence. Sunset says the opposite."

"I just thought, if the wedding took place later, it would give everyone more time to get ready," Irina explained.

"Perhaps we should have the ceremony at high noon," Ludwig put in.

"Excellent idea," Irina said quickly, before Uwe could interrupt.

"High noon it is, then." Uwe jotted it down in his notebook.

"For the dinner, I'd like to include borscht," Irina said. _I'm not backing down on this one,_ she thought.

"Beets, am I correct?" Uwe asked. Irina nodded. "Hm. Perhaps beef for the meat, then."

Irina smiled. "Sounds wonderful."

"I'll send your request to the chef. He'll prepare the menu."

"I would like to keep the party small, by the way," Ludwig said to Uwe. "The public may show up to the church, but only family and a few select noblemen should be invited here."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty," Uwe coughed, "More than a few noblemen will want to be invited."

"Well, I suppose that's too bad for them." Ludwig shrugged. Irina covered her mouth to muffle her surprised laughter.

Uwe flushed. "Whatever you wish, Your Majesty. What day should the wedding be on?"

"How does two weeks from now sound?" Ludwig asked Irina.

"Perfect," Irina responded.

"Two weeks..." Uwe muttered, scribbling. "Is that all for now, Your Majesty?"

"For now," Ludwig agreed, standing up. He offered his hand to Irina and she took it, standing up as well. "We shall reconvene when the chef develops the menu."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Ludwig gave Irina's hand a squeeze, and she realized he wanted her to say something.

"You are dismissed."

Uwe nodded, then left the room.

Ludwig turned to Irina. "Would you like to see about your dress? Elizaveta can take you to her seamstress."

"I would like that very much." Irina let a sudden burst of happiness, so she leaned forward and kissed Ludwig on the lips.

She pulled away, and grinned at his surprised expression. She walked away, and left the room, feeling her betrothed's eyes on her back.

Irina replayed the kiss in her mind as she wandered around. It had been quite nice, and Ludwig's surprise had been amusing. Her stomach fluttered for some reason. She pictured him making that surprised face after the kiss at the altar, and laughed aloud.

"Irunya!"

Irina turned around and saw Elizaveta. She smiled. "Hello Elizaveta!"

"Hello!" Elizaveta caught up with Irina and fell into step beside her. "Were you just planning the wedding."

"I was," Irina confirmed.

"With Uwe?"

"Oh, yes."

"Is he still a pain in the neck?"

"Well, yes."

Elizaveta laughed. "My seamstress can take your measurements now."

"Wonderful. Thank you." Irina smiled at Elizaveta.

Elizaveta looped her arm through Irina's and sighed happily. "Come, then."

She led Irina through staircases and twisty corridors, until they reached a room in the deep recesses of the Palace. Elizaveta knocked on the oak door, then stepped back expectantly.

The door creaked open, and upon the threshold stood an old woman. Her back was hunched, her silver hair was pulled back into a bun on the top of her head. Her blue eyes peered upwards at Elizaveta, blinking blearily behind spectacles.

"Good morning, Beate!" Elizaveta said cheerfully.

"My Lady," Beate responded, doing a clumsy curtesy. "This must be King Ludwig's bride-to-be." She turned her gaze to Irina.

"Princess Irina," Irina supplied, smiling politely. "Pleased to meet you, Beate."

"And I you, Your Highness. Now come inside, I expect we'll be a while with the measurements." Beate beckoned, then retreated into the chamber. Elizaveta followed, then Irina.

Inside the room, there were shelves packed with fabric, mirrors on every wall, a table with needles and thread. Beate bustled around, lighting lamps and pulling out a measuring tape. Elizaveta perched herself on a stool. Irina walked over to the mirror and looked at her reflection.

"Just your corset and petticoat dear, if you don't mind," Beate said, bringing over a stool for Irina to stand on.

Irina complied, and removed her layered dress. Her corset was relatively loose, her petticoat was a wisp of a thing.

"Arms up now, love," Beate commanded, and Irina did as she was told.

Beate hummed something as she measured her, a tune Irina almost recognized. She only stopped when she read Irina's bust measurement.

"Oh my," she chuckled, "I may need to buy more fabric!"

Elizaveta giggled. Irina blushed.

"Well, that's it," Beate huffed. Irina, suddenly self-conscious, was glad to get dressed again.

"You'd like blue, of course," Beate said matter-of-factly, walking over to the shelf of fabric. She grasped a bolt of sky-blue fabric with her knobbly fingers.

"With gold embroidery and accents," Irina added, arranging her jewellery.

"Certainly, Your Highness," Beate said. "Is this fabric to your liking?"

Irina walked over, rubbed the material between her fingers. "It's lovely."

"Then, unless there is anything else you require of me, I shall start making the dress."

"That is all, thank you." Irina nodded at Beate, who was beginning to measure the fabric. She beckoned to Elizaveta, and the two took their leave.

"Beate may look frail, but she works faster than any other seamstress I've had," Elizaveta told Irina. "You'll be back here for a fitting tomorrow."

"Excellent," Irina replied simply. She didn't want to admit it, but Beate's comment had rubbed her the wrong way. And Elizaveta had laughed at it, too.

"I think you're supposed to pick out your headpiece now," Elizaveta frowned, which irked Irina a bit. She wasn't a child that was to be shepherded from one location to the next. She was a queen-to-be!

"Unfortunately, only Ludwig has the key to the vault. I'll walk you there and then ask a servant to fetch him." Elizaveta smiled.

"Thank you," Irina said, instead of shouting, _I can do it myself!_

The vault wasn't far from Beate's quarters. It was a large stone door built into the wall and guarded by two servants.

"Could you fetch King Ludwig, please?" Elizaveta asked one. He nodded, then quickly dashed off.

"I'll leave you here," she told Irina. "I have some other things to attend to."

"Thank you for bringing me to Beate." Irina nodded at her.

"It was no trouble." Elizaveta gave a small curtsey, then left. Irina felt a slight twinge of pride when she remembered that, though Elizaveta had treated her like a child, she was still higher in rank than her.

Ludwig took a while to arrive at the vault. Irina was contemplating sitting on the stone floor, her dress be damned, when he arrived.

"Irina." He smiled, then kissed her cheek in greeting. "Have you seen about your dress?"

"Yes I have," she said. "You're going to love me in it."

"I should hope I'll love you without it," Ludwig commented. Irina laughed, surprised. "I would hate to stain it."

Ludwig unlocked the door, smirking at his own joke. Irina found this endearing.

"Feel free to choose any headpiece you like." Ludwig was back to being serious now. "As long as you like it, I will too." He pushed the heavy stone door open.

The chamber was huge, and piled with jewels and precious things. In the middle there was a path, and on either wall were shelves. The shelves were heaped with jewellery, winking and glittering in the semi-dark. Strings of pearls, gold rings, brooches, and coronets were piled on top of each other. Golden bowls and ivory dishes were filled with jewels and precious stones: diamonds, emeralds, rubies, amethysts, carbuncles, lapis lazuli. At the very back, suits of armour were lined up, watching over the treasure. On the walls were shining weapons, swords inset with rubies and the finest arrows. Heavy chests were on the floor, padlocked securely. Stray stones and jewellery lay everywhere, as if they'd been simply tossed inside; a diamond necklace hung on the tip of a spear, a topaz was stuck in a slit in a face guard.

Irina stepped in slowly, looking all around her. Her eyes were as big and as sparkly as the rarest diamond in the place.

Ludwig lit a lamp, bathing the room in soft yellow light. He walked in after her, then shut the door behind himself.

Irina touched an emerald brooch. There was so much in the room, more than was at Castle Kremlin.

Ludwig watched her with a fond smile. She picked up a silver tiara with diamonds and inspected it before carefully setting it back down. She was pretty when she was concentrating, all golden lashes and frowning mouth.

"I don't know how I can pick!" She laughed sheepishly. "There's so many possibilities."

"There's no rush," Ludwig assured her.

In the end, Irina chose a gold tiara with topaz, diamonds, and golden spikes. It looked like rays of sunlight were being emitted from her face, which was lovely.

"So, after we're married, are you going to declare war on the Baltic Kingdom?" She asked, as Ludwig was locking the vault.

"Probably, yes."

Irina sighed. "At least we have two more weeks of peace."

Ludwig nodded, feeling a peculiar sadness creep in. He felt like he was very small and very alone, which was a sort of tragedy in itself.

Several stories above them, Erika turned a doorknob slowly and slipped into a room. The curtains were drawn, but some daylight still filtered through. She stood by the bed, the bed heaped with soft pillows and lace, and smiled. Natalya matched the bed so perfectly, her pale skin and hair nestled into the white sheets.

"Natalya," she whispered. Natalya didn't stir.

"Natalya." She tried again, this time shaking Natalya's shoulder. The blankets rustled, then her eyes flickered open.

"Erika?" Natalya's voice was croaky. "What are you doing?"

"Waking you," Erika answered cheerily, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Yes, but why?" Natalya sat up and rubbed some dust out of her eyes.

"Well," Erika began, walking over to the window. She opened the curtains forcefully. "You're going to be living here now, so you need to know your way around. And I, Erika Zwingli, am going to take you on a tour of Berlin!"

"I'm not living her permanently," Natalya mumbled, rolling over in bed. "I'll probably leave after the wedding."

"Not an excuse!" Erika singsonged, grabbing Natalya's arm. She groaned as Erika tried to drag her out of bed.

"Fine, I'll let you show me the city but can you leave while I change?"

Erika dropped her arm, grinning. "Of course."

Several minutes later, Natalya rejoined Erika outside the bedroom. She was dressed in the black and red dress from before. "So, where are we going?" She asked.

Erika waved her hand vaguely. "The Rathaus, Charlottenburg park, Alexanderplatz. Just around."

"Lead the way, then." Natalya gestured ahead of her. "Just don't get us lost."

Erika laughed. "I would never," she said, starting to walk.

Erika led her to the stables, then got her into a carriage. As they left the Palace grounds, Erika began talking excitedly; about her favourite shops, a statue in the square she wanted to show Natalya. Natalya cupped her cheek in her hand, content to listen to Erika 's commentary as the carriage rolled through the streets of Berlin.

She was surprised, then, when the carriage stopped at Alexanderplatz and Erika said, "Time to get out!"

"What?" Natalya asked. "Is there a shop you want to buy something at?"

"No," Erika said, "we're going to walk."

Natalya stared. "You're crazy."

Erika opened the carriage door. "No crazier than a princess who practises magic." She hopped out. "Are you coming?"

Natalya bit her lip. "Alright, hold the door."

Erika bounced on the balls of her feet as Natalya exited the carriage. Natalya took note of the habit.

"Come on, then." Erika took Natalya's arm and practically skipped away.

They walked. They talked. They thought not of the past, nor of the future. Time melted around them. The landmarks of Berlin fused into a blur, their only real landmarks being the flavour of the moment they lived. Natalya held a bubble of happiness in her chest, one so big it felt as if her ribcage were about to burst.

* * *

Ivan looked out the window of the carriage for probably the hundredth time. He'd been waiting at the border in the carriage for three hours, and his legs were aching. He was beginning to regret taking such a flashy carriage; every passer-by recognized him. He closed his eyes and sighed, praying for his headache to go away and for Yao to come.

"Your Majesty?" The driver called. Ivan's eyes snapped open. "A carriage with the crest of the Asian Kingdom has just pulled up."

Ivan looked out the window and saw Yao exiting his carriage. He took a deep breath; now was not the time to get nervous and flustered. He had to be calm, in control.

The side of the carriage opened and Yao climbed in. He was dressed in a beige tunic with violet accents. His hair was swept off his face neatly and tied at the side. He smelled fresh. Ivan shifted, suddenly realizing he was taking up three-quarters of the space in the carriage. He tried to move so he wasn't squished so close to Yao, but it didn't work.

Ivan glanced back at Yao. His expression was unreadable. "Don't ask me why I'm doing this," he told Ivan.

Ivan turned to the driver. "Take us to some side street, an abandoned alley. Someplace less people will see us."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the driver replied, then whipped the horses. The carriage started moving.

They travelled in silence for about five minutes. Ivan kept sneaking looks at Yao, but Yao stared ahead the entire time. When the carriage stopped on a seldom-used side street, Yao turned to face Ivan.

"Well?" Yao asked. Ivan was acutely aware of their knees touching softly. "What is there to discuss? We're enemies now, in fact I shouldn't even be here."

"Can't we be friends?" Ivan replied, then cringed at how pathetic he sounded.

"I'm doing what's best for my Kingdom." Yao's voice was slightly irritable. "Which means not being allies with you."

Ivan had expected that, though that didn't mean it didn't hurt. "So the Soviet Kingdom is really that hopeless?"

"To put it bluntly..." Yao fiddled with the end of his ponytail, not looking at Ivan. "Yes."

"I probably shouldn't even try, then." Ivan felt heat behind his eyes, then internally panicked. It had been three years since he'd shed tears in front of another, and he didn't plan on breaking that record today. He blinked a few times in quick succession. "I'm an awful King."

"No, you're a good King." Yao put his hand on Ivan's arm. Internally, Ivan cursed his fair complexion, as he was sure he was blushing. "Losing power isn't solely your fault. The Kingdom has been on a slow decline for generations."

Ivan sighed. "You're right. I just fail to understand why my Lords wanted to split."

Yao shrugged. "Power, I suppose. We all get drunk on it at some point."

"Speaking of drinks," Ivan changed the subject, "would you like something?" He opened a drawer underneath their seats. Inside were glasses, and bottles of beer, vodka, and whiskey.

"No thank you," Yao declined, and Ivan shut the drawer.

Neither spoke for a few long, painful moments. Then, Yao appeared to think of something.

"This isn't about that kiss, is it?" He asked Ivan. Ivan opened his mouth, then closed it, trying to think of how to reply.

Yao sighed. "I don't want to do this, honestly. I'm just trying to be a good King. I don't want to drag my personal life into it."

"That's what you're afraid of?" Ivan blurted. He coughed, then lowered his voice. "You're a King. It's impossible to leave your personal life out of ruling."

"I'm aware," Yao responded. "But I've already made my decision. And we're done here."

Ivan closed his eyes. "Take us back to the border," he told the driver.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The five minutes it took to get back felt like five years to Ivan. He was wrong about Yao liking him, and he felt foolish. He wanted to smack some sense into the butterflies in his stomach, but they fluttered anyway.

When they arrived back at the border, it was less busy. There were fewer pedestrians, fewer carriages. Ivan glanced forlornly at Yao's carriage, waiting for him patiently.

Yao drew the curtains on the window, then spoke. "Don't take this the wrong way, but... You seem like more trouble than you're worth." He leaned in and kissed Ivan on the cheek.

Then he left, and Ivan was on his own in the carriage with the feeling of Yao's lips lingering on his cheek.

Ivan sat in silence for a minute, then opened the drawer and took out a bottle of vodka and a glass. "Back to Moscow," he told the driver.

The carriage started moving again, and Ivan tried to pour some vodka into the glass. The carriage shook too much, so most of the vodka spilled on the velvet cushion. Ivan gave up and took a sip straight from the bottle.

* * *

Eduard's fingers drummed on the desk in front of him. He was starting to feel useless around here - he hadn't seen Raivis all day, and Toris and Feliks were busy editing the speech.

He scowled at the thought of Feliks. Raivis might say his suspicion of Feliks was irrational, but Eduard wasn't quite so sure. What kind of person splits from their Kingdom to elevate their status? If Feliks wanted to be a Prince, he could have married Erika. Hell, he could have married Vash.

No, there was some sort of unscrupulous greed about him. That, or he wanted to spite Ludwig.

Either way, those traits weren't desirable at all in a leader. But of course, Toris had unofficially appointed Feliks Director of Public Relations, so his word was law. No one cared what Eduard had to say about the matter, so long as Feliks gave his opinion.

Eduard stood, pushing his chair back with slightly more force than was necessary. Restless, he left the room and began wandering the halls of Castle Kaunas.

He hadn't gotten very far at all - perhaps only a few hundred metres - when he heard voices.

"It's not manipulation, not really." It was Feliks' voice, coming fro just around the corner. Eduard popped into a nearby room, shut the door, and peered through the keyhole.

"As long as it works, everyone is happy, right?" Feliks was saying, as he rounded the corner with Raivis. Raivis looked nervous and a little uncomfortable.

"Yes, I know," Raivis sighed. Momentarily, Eduard was distracted by the gold of his hair when the sun it it just right. "I'm generally anxious, that's all. I don't know what to do! Should I just-" he bit his lip- "say it?"

"Spend more time with him." Feliks' tone was soothing. "You've known each other for a long time, I'm sure you'll know what will work. Agree with him as much as possible, yet subtlety guide him in the right direction. And don't be afraid to drop hints."

Eduard furrowed his brows, confused and a little horrified. Manipulation? What were they planning?

"Thank you so much, Feliks," Raivis said gratefully.

"You're welcome," Feliks replied, then they parted. Eduard was left standing in the room, alone and confused.

Eduard rubbed his chin. Feliks wouldn't be telling Raivis how to manipulate Toris, would he? No, Eduard was sure Feliks was already trying to manipulate Toris. Which left him.

He gasped as the thought occurred to him, anger and hurt rolling in and throbbing through his body.

 _They're going to try to get rid of me._


	8. The Truth

**so, it turns out that if I update this once a month without skipping any months, I'll be done by September, which is a kinda a long way away. Well, not really, but a lot of things could happen between now and September. And i really don't want to abandon this fic, I've put so much thought into it. So I'm going to try updating twice a month. Idk if I'll have time to update twice a month every month, but I should be able to update twice at least a few times.**

 **Also, I've never written a speech before so I apologize if it's bad.**

* * *

Leon fidgeted, sighing loudly. The butterflies in his stomach were flapping incessantly, and the tunic he was wearing itched.

"Stop moving," Yao muttered irritably, and Leon rolled his eyes.

They were all standing in the foyer of Summer Palace, waiting for their guests to arrive. The royal family of the Nordic Kingdom would be at their doorstep any second, so they were all in position.

Yao and Leon were in front, Yao being the King, and Leon being the one getting betrothed. Behind them, Mei, Lien, Yong Soo, Kiku and Heracles were lined up. They were all dressed nicely, but Yao had made them dress down for the specific purpose of making Leon stand out.

Leon himself felt a little uncomfortable being the centre of attention for the evening, but he supposed he brought this on himself. When he got back from meeting Emil, he didn't exactly beg not to marry him. He practically begged for the opposite. He didn't like to admit it to his family, but he did feel a spark when he met Emil. Not to mention, he was handsome and funny, and, well, he was smitten. So he'd agreed to go ahead with the betrothal.

The knocker sounded loudly, startling him. He took a deep breath as a servant opened the door.

Emil was the first to enter. He was wearing a blue tunic patterned with tan Xs, tan pants, and a long violet jacket with white fur trim. A circlet of gold was placed upon his head, and shone in his white-blond hair. He was smiling widely as he moved forward to greet Leon.

"Nice to see you again," he said. Leon took his proffered hand and shook it.

"You as well," he responded. Emil gave him one last smile before moving on to greet Yao.

"Hello again, Lukas," Leon greeted Emil's brother. "How are you?"

"As well as can be expected," he grumbled. Leon smirked, remembering what Emil told him about Lukas and Matthias.

"That's good," Leon said, wiping the smirk off his face. Lukas stepped aside to greet Yao.

"Hey, Leon!" Matthias took his hand and shook it vigorously. "I'm glad you're marryin' Emil, it'll be good for him to have a friend. Or, of course, something more." He winked.

Leon laughed. Matthias released his hand and greeted Yao.

"How are you, Leon?" Tiny asked cheerfully, taking Leon's hand.

Leon had half a mind to repeat Lukas' answer to this question, but he decided against it. "I'm good, you?"

"Excellent." Tino beamed.

Berwald was last to greet, and Leon's hand disappeared into the King's. "Good ev'ning, Leon."

"Good evening," Leon said back.

Once everyone had greeted each other, the guests were seated in the parlour to get acquainted. To Leon's surprise, the two families got on like they were old friends. Tino and Mei instantly struck up a conversation. Matthias and Yong Soo had similar personalities, so they got along splendidly. Lukas and Kiku gravitated towards each other as well, and made polite conversation. Every so often, Kiku's husband, Heracles, would pitch in with a comment. Lien seemed to be attempting to draw Berwald into a conversation with Yao, which was ever so slowly working. Emil and Leon just sat, staring at each other for a bit.

"So," Emil broke the silence between them. "Was it your idea to ask me to marry you?"

"I don't know, was it your idea to accept?" Leon responded cheekily.

Emil gave Leon a look that said, _I'm a bit_ _annoyed but mostly amused._ "Let's say it at the same time then," Emil proposed. "Three, two, one."

"Yes," they muttered simultaneously, then broke out into awkward chuckles.

"At least we know we don't hate each other," Leon said.

"That's good to know. It'll make the rest of my life with you more tolerable," said Emil. They both laughed.

In truth, they were both quite nervous. A betrothal isn't an everyday occurrence, and though each liked the other, they'd had some doubts leading up to today. It was natural, of course. But the fact that it was natural didn't mean they didn't feel guilty about it.

When the time finally came for the betrothal ceremony, the party was herded into the ballroom. There was an arch in the middle of the room, with vines curling around the wood. A servant stood under the arch, holding a basket of things needed for the ceremony. Leon and Emil exchanged glances as their families found seats around the room.

"Are you ready for this?" Emil asked quietly.

"No," Leon murmured back.

"Me neither." Emil held out his hand, and with only a little hesitation, Leon took it.

They walked towards the arch.

The servant waiting for them pinned a green ribbon to each of their sleeves upon their arrival. The servant handed Leon a gold ring. He took it carefully, closing his eyes and reciting what he had to say in his head.

"With this ring," he began, slipping it onto the third finger of Emil's right hand, "I will take your hand and your heart, mine to keep and to care for, beyond all barriers and even death."

The servant then produced the golden slippers. Emil, who'd forgotten to remove his shoes hastily kicked them off before Leon knelt down. Leon noticed, of course, and smirked up at Emil before speaking again.

"With these slippers, I will let you rely on me, yours to be held and supported, beyond the measure of time and even eternity."

Leon then stood, and took both of Emil's hands. He took a deep breath. "With this kiss, we will be joined in a promise of matrimony, the strongest bond which nothing can break, beyond all strength of arm and even of mind."

Leon glanced at Emil's lips, then hesitated. He looked Emil's eyes, which seemed to be reassuring him everything was alright. Emil leaned in and kissed him.

Leon had thought about this moment fairly often, but it was nothing compared to the real thing. In his mind, the kiss was more soft and sure of itself. In Leon's mind, they both knew what they were doing. Leon was blindly copying what Emil was doing with his lips, never having kissed before. Emil's lips were slow and fumbling, unlike the experienced kisser Leon had imagined him to be. But none of that mattered, because it was real and happening right now, and when Leon pulled away, the whole thing felt magical anyway.

A short burst of applause sounded. Leon gave a small smile. Emil made to step away.

"There's still another part to the ceremony, Emil," Leon mumbled.

"Right."

Leon cleared his throat and spoke again. "I, Leon, will give my body to you, Emil, in loyal matrimony." He didn't notice the blush that flitted across Emil's face at the mention of Leon's body.

"And I will receive it," Emil replied quickly. "I, Emil, will give my body to you, Leon, in loyal matrimony."

"And I will receive it." Leon paused, thinking. "Emil, I will take you to be my husband and I will espouse you; and I will commit to you the fidelity of my body and my possessions; and I will keep you in health and sickness and in any condition should it please our Lord that you should have, nor for worse or for better will I change towards you until the end."

"Leon, I will take you to be my husband and I will espouse you; and I will commit to you the fidelity of my body and my possessions; and I will keep you in health and sickness and in any condition should it please our Lord that you should have, nor for worse or for better will I change towards you until the end."

More applause sounded, and with that, the ceremony was over. Emil sighed in relief and gave Leon a small smile. Music began to float around the room, courtesy of two jokers playing a flute and a harp. Their families began to rise from their seats and chat to one another.

Leon fiddled with the hem of his tunic. Neither of them spoke.

"Would you like to dance?" Emil asked Leon, a little shyly.

"Why not," Leon agreed, and they walked to the centre of the floor.

"So, how's your family been since I left?" Leon asked conversationally as they danced.

"Alright." Emil shrugged. "I've not had much sleep due to Lukas and Matthias, but that's to be expected."

Leon snorted. "How long do they think they can keep it a secret? And how haven't they figured out you know?"

"I mean, Lukas thinks he's invincible and Matthias isn't exactly the brightest star in the sky, but you'd think they'd at least be a little more careful." Emil glanced over his shoulder, and Leon followed his gaze.

More couples had joined them in dancing, and Lukas was currently dancing with Lien. Matthias was standing at the side with Yong Soo. As the two watched, Matthias whispered something into Yong Soo's ear. Yong Soo laughed, then appeared to congratulate him.

"I'll bet you money he's telling Yong Soo right now," Emil mumbled.

"I wouldn't bet against you on that." Leon shook his head. "I can't believe how nonchalant he is."

"Well, it's not like either of _them_ are married," Emil quipped.

"Very true," Leon laughed.

At this point, the music sped up, and conversation was forgotten as they danced faster. When Emil tripped over his own feet and almost fell on his face, they both burst into hysterical laughter and had to go sit down.

"I'm crying," Leon sniffed, wiping at his eyes. He sat on a small couch. "You were doing that complicated footwork and then-!" Another peal of laughter cut off his sentence.

"I didn't look that funny," Emil said, but he was giggling as well.

"Hello you two," they heard, and stopped laughing. They hadn't noticed Heracles sitting on the couch as well. He smiled serenely at them.

"Hey, Heracles," Leon replied cheerfully. Emil smiled politely.

"Allow me to congratulate you," he said, mostly addressing Emil. "I only now realized I hadn't yet."

"Thank you," replied Leon. Emil was looking thoughtfully at Kiku, who was dancing with Mei.

"I am glad I met your family," Heracles said, and Emil glanced back at him and Leon. "They're quite nice."

"They can be sometimes," he responded without thinking. Heracles chuckled. Everything about him was soft and slow. Emil suddenly understood why Kiku wasn't being faithful.

That didn't excuse it, though.

"Your husband is Kiku, right?" He asked.

"Yes." Heracles smiled in a very loving, sentimental manner. "We were married like you two will be. Though not for a war, just for an alliance. I am very happy being married to Kiku, so there is nothing to fear about being married to Leon."

Emil smiled again. "Well, I-"

Leon stepped on his foot.

"I should talk to my brother about something," he corrected himself. He quickly stood up and walked away, Leon following.

"What were you doing?" Leon hissed.

"It's not right," Emil said back. "He loves him so much, and he's being played for a fool."

"You can't just tell him like that," Leon protested. "You'd break his heart and cause a scene."

"Then how do you want me to tell him?" Emil snapped.

"You won't. I'll tell Yao, and he can decide what to do."

Emil sighed. "Fine."

"I'll go tell him now," Leon muttered, before slipping away.

Leon found Yao easily; he was speaking with Berwald in a corner of the room. He approached, thinking of what to say.

"Two hundred," Yao said to Berwald.

"Three hundred," Berwald replied.

"Yao?" Leon asked.

"Two twenty-five." Yao ignored him and kept bartering with Berwald.

"Two fifty."

"Yao!" Leon repeated.

"Not now, Leon."

"It's important," he pleaded. "I have to tell you something important."

"Just a second. Two thirty."

"Two forty-five."

"Yao..."

"Fine, two hundred and forty-five aurium. What is it, Leon?" Yao said exasperatedly.

"I need to speak to you in private." Leon gulped.

"Alright." Yao smiled and nodded at Berwald, who turned to leave.

Leon thought he saw Berwald smirking as he walked away to find Tino.

"Now what do you want to talk to me about?" Yao rounded on Leon.

Leon wasn't sure of how to break the news gently. So he didn't. "Kiku is having an affair with King Alfred of the American Kingdom."

Yao narrowed his eyes. "Is this a prank?"

"No, I'm serious. I heard them sleeping together," Leon insisted.

"Expound," Yao demanded.

Leon complied. "While I was at Emil's place to meet him, I couldn't sleep during the night and I got up. I walked past Kiku's room and heard, uh... Noises. He called out King Alfred's name." Leon paused. "I don't know how he got there without anyone knowing, but he was there."

"I see," Yao replied, thinking hard.

"So what are we going to do?" Leon asked.

" _You're_ not going to do anything," Yao decided. "Just don't mention this to anyone else."

"I won't."

"And thank you for telling me." Yao nodded at him.

"You're welcome."

Yao sighed. "Let's have supper."

He made signals to a few servants, who began alerting the guests that it was suppertime. Everyone filed into the dining room off the ballroom. Each took their seat at their marked place. Yao was seated at the head of the table, with Emil and Leon beside each other to his right.

Leon hadn't realized how hungry he was until the food was served.

Straightaway came the main course, a roast goose leg. It was crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside, the perfect texture. It was cut into pieces, served in warm, hearty broth with tender noodles. Plum sauce was available for dipping, whose sweet flavour enhanced the savoury one of the goose. On the side there was sizzling roasted mushrooms, buttery dumplings, and steaming platters of breaded shrimp and chicken. To drink, they offered sweet coconut juice, golden, frothy beer, and baiju, an alcoholic drink akin to vodka. For dessert there was sago mix, a sweet, cool fruit salad with tapioca, served with milk tea.

After supper, the entire company engaged in a fierce card game. Emil surprised everyone by winning a large sum of money, even beating Yao, the self-declared champion of the game. Yao's fave when Emil took his money was completely shocked, and Leon struggled to contain his laughter. During one of the many rematches, Leon found himself staring at his betrothed, a smile stretching his flushed cheeks. He felt his heart was full.

The evening flew by, and before Leon knew it, it was pitch black outside and his legs were aching. Much of the party was at least slightly intoxicated at this point; they'd all had something to drink. When Yao suggested they retire for the night, Leon welcomed that suggestion.

"Goodnight, Emil," he said, smiling lopsidedly. Leon could feel his eyes drooping; the day had tired him out. "This has been fun. Teach me your ways sometime, alright?"

"No way," Emil joked playfully. "I'm never revealing my secrets."

"Suit yourself," Leon said, then laughed at his own pun.

Emil grinned. "Goodnight, Leon."

He turned away and followed Yao, who had offered to show the guests to their rooms for the night. Soon they were gone.

Kiku sighed loudly. He was still sitting at the table. Heracles was already dozing off, his head rested on Kiku's shoulder.

Leon yawned. "I'm going to bed now as well. Goodnight," he said to his family, then left the room.

One by one, the family members left to go to sleep. Soon it was just Kiku and Heracles.

Kiku moved his shoulder ever so slightly. Heracles' eyes fluttered open.

"What time is it?" He asked groggily.

"Late," Kiku responded, smiling softly.

"I don't feel like moving," Heracles sighed. "I could go back to sleep right now."

"Seems uncomfortable." Kiku stood up and stretched.

"No, no, I'll come upstairs eventually." Heracles yawned. "You can go on ahead without me."

Kiku kissed his forehead. "Alright, goodnight."

Kiku made his way upstairs, his limbs feeling heavier with every step. He entered his room and sat on the bed for a few minutes before starting to get ready for bed.

Two solid, thudding knocks sounded from the other side of the door. Kiku, in the middle of putting his sleep clothes on, called out, "Just a moment!"

He finished dressing and went to open the door. Yao was standing there, still dressed in his fancy tunic. "Yes?"

"Can I come in?" Yao asked in response. Kiku opened the door wider and stepped aside. Yao walked in.

"So," Yao said, as soon as Kiku shut the door, "Leon tells me you're not being faithful."

Kiku froze in place, his back to Yao. After a short pause, he spoke. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Yao sighed. "Kiku, I know about King Alfred." His tone was gentle-condescending, a tone rarely heard from him but one Kiku despised. "Leon heard you two that night in the Nordic Kingdom. You're not very careful, are you?"

Kiku turned around, took a few steps forward. "You don't understand."

"So enlighten me, then." Yao's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"I was never in love with Heracles," Kiku began. "I've only ever seen him as a friend. A friend I'm married to, but a friend. When you sent me to the American Kingdom and I met Alfred, we fell in love. It's as simple as that. You can't deny love."

"You can't cheat on your husband, either!" Yao retorted sharply.

"You just don't understand because you've never been in love," Kiku snapped. He saw Yao's jaw tighten, then release. Cruelly, he wondered if the old man was even capable of love, or if his heart was too hard.

"That's not what we're talking about right now," Yao said, and Kiku felt a spark of pity. He immediately chased it away with a wave of anger. He wanted to hold onto his anger.

"You're still married to Heracles," Yao continued. "You need to end this affair. Already, many people know this secret. And it won't stay a secret for long if too many know it." He brushed past Kiku and walked stiffly to the door.

"I won't stop seeing Alfred," Kiku spoke angrily. His hands were curled into fists, he felt a red heat behind his eyes.

"Then you had better be careful," Yao responded, "because I refuse to have the South Europeans at our throats."

He then left, slamming the door behind him.

Kiku fell into a bed and lay there for a moment. Then he threw a pillow across the room.

* * *

The talk from the crowd was deafeningly loud, even from inside. Toris stood behind the velvet curtain, taking deep breaths. His tunic was a deep violet, draped over his shoulders was a length of white fur, on his head was the most impressive crown they had on hand. Though dressed lavishly, Toris was uncomfortable. He was sweating under his layers, and the crown was heavy on his head. He wanted to scratch his back, but he knew if he did the crown would probably fall off.

Feliks, Raivis, and Eduard were in a horizontal line behind him, dressed well, but not more impressively than Toris.

Toris wrung his hands. "I can't do this," he whispered.

"Breathe," Eduard whispered to him.

"Remember the library," Feliks reminded him.

"You can do this," Raivis reassured him.

Toris took another deep breath. "Thank you." The three could hear the weak smile in his voice.

Toris drew the curtain open and walked onto the balcony.

The reaction from the crowd varied. Some cheered, some booed. Some started yelling, others said nothing. Several began muttering to the people beside them.

Toris approached the end of the balcony and gripped the railing firmly with both hands. He swept his eyes over the crowd gathered below him. It was a powerful, calculating sweep. The crowd quieted.

He began the speech, not shouting, but with a voice that carried past mountain peaks.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good citizens. My name is Toris Laurinaitis. Some of you may know me as a Lord over a section of this territory. Those of you who know me may also be familiar with my reputation: a kind, somewhat lenient, though respected and generous Lord. When I accepted this role I did not think much of it; I was born into the position and took hold of it when I was eighteen, like all Lords do. However, being a Lord has shaped my character. It has opened my eyes to the trials and tribulations faced by the people; faced by you. It has shown me how truly lucky I am to be in the position I am, and through my Lordship I tried to take that mentality with me wherever I went. I believe this has made me a better ruler, ready and willing to consider how decisions I make shall be viewed from your angle."

Toris seemed to gain confidence as he spoke. A hush had fallen over the crowd, like they were entranced by his words.

"It is with this in mind that I form the question: are you happy?

"It may seem like an odd question, but I wish for you to consider it. Are you truly happy? Perhaps you have a spouse, or children that make you feel fulfilled and content. Perhaps that is enough. But, during my time as Lord, I felt that it was not enough for most of you. Most of you need a little bit more. A little bit more land, a little bit more freedom. More than King Ivan is willing to give.

"That is why I have decided to form the Baltic Kingdom with my fellow, former Lords Eduard von Bock, Raivis Galante, and Feliks Lukasiewicz. To give you what you need. To give you a better life, for you and your children. To give you freedom. To give you happiness.

"Some of you may reject this notion of another Kingdom." For a moment, Toris almost smiled. As if he was amused by his opposers, as if they were nothing compared to him. This attitude looked good on him. "You may say we are incompetent, we have not considered the risks, or we are simply delusional. I say to you, open your minds. Realize that, with more than thirty years experience with politics, law, and governing, we are more than competent. In fact, perhaps we four are the most competent people there are to rule this Kingdom. And when you say we have not considered the risks, you are sorely mistaken. We have taken into account everything that could possibly arise from this, the good and the bad, and planned accordingly. Lastly, we are not delusional. We have a secure plan for the future, and our allies, Kings Tino and Berwald of the Nordic Kingdom, will assist us in carrying it out. For those fearful or worried about what the Soviet Kingdom might do, know this: allied with the Nordic Kingdom and the Asian Kingdom, we have the biggest army Pangaea has ever seen.

"Some of you may still be loyal to King Ivan and the Soviet Kingdom." Toris' lip curled, in something akin to disgust. "I say to you, take a long, hard look at the Soviet Kingdom and all they stand for. King Ivan, and decades of Kings before him, have relied on the people for all their luxury, and the people have gladly given it to them. What then, have the people received in return for this? Poverty, disease, and famine. For many of you, the cost of living is so high you remain in debt your entire life, only to live a life of squalor. Does this seem fair to you? Of course not. But it has profited Kings in the past, and it is profiting King Ivan as we speak. I propose it is time to stop this disgusting treatment. You deserve better. You have worked so hard, and you deserve so much more.

"This prosperous, wonderful life you will have does not come without a price. The Soviet Kingdom is preparing for war, as are we. Within days of the split, the Soviet Kingdom announced they had acquired the Germanic Kingdom as an ally. As you all may know, the Germanic Kingdom has a reputation of being a strong fighting Kingdom, their soldiers skilled at combat and their techniques flawless. While that may be true, the combined forces of the Nordic Kingdom and the Asian Kingdom are certainly not weak. We are fully prepared for it to be a hard-fought battle. We are also prepared to never give up on this battle. We will never surrender, never go back to being simply a piece of the Soviet Kingdom. Because, to surrender would be giving up on you, and the bountiful life we promise you. And we will never do that. Because you are the most important part of the Baltic Kingdom. The Baltic Kingdom shall be a Kingdom built for the people, not for greedy monarchs like King Ivan.

"In this time of crisis and turmoil, with the prospect of war looming in the background, you will need to be stronger than ever. I know I am asking much of you, and for that I apologize. These are trying times, but we must endure them if we are to benefit. But, I need to ask of you one more thing. I ask of you, to welcome me as your King, and Eduard, Raivis and Feliks as your Princes. I ask of you to give us a chance. I promise we will not let you down. We will fight for you, fight for your freedoms and your right to a happy, fulfilling life. We will work hard to give to you the happiness you need and deserve. We will never treat you horribly, and we will never let you be treated horribly. We will never surrender to the Soviets!"

A cheer went up in the audience. They were angry, invigorated. Toris' words had put blood in their hearts and fire in their souls.

"So I shall ask you, the people, to trust me, King Toris Laurinaitis of the Baltic Kingdom.

"Thank you for allowing me to address you. It has been an honour."

More cheers erupted. It sounded like the entire crowd was cheering, screaming their hearts out for Toris.

Toris turned away, then immediately broke out into a huge grin. He let the waves of cheering push him back inside, floating on the feeling of euphoria.

The curtain flapped shut behind him. "I did it," Toris said in wonder. "I did it."

"You did!" Feliks replied, eyes glistening.

Raivis smiled, then walked away, deciding to let them have their moment.

"That was impressive," Raivis heard, then Eduard fell into step beside him.

"Indeed," Raivis responded.

"Er, Raivis? I have something I'd like to speak to you about," Eduard said uneasily.

"What is it?"

"I heard you and Feliks talking the other day." Eduard's voice was suddenly accusatory.

Raivis stopped walking, his mind going insane. Eduard knew? What was he going to say? Was he going to ridicule him?

"When you were making your plans," Eduard continued. Raivis forced himself to look at Eduard. He looked heartbroken and full of rage at the same time. It was a strange kind of beautiful, like a bleak, raw landscape no one appreciates.

"I-" Raivis started, certain that Eduard hated him.

"Don't explain." Eduard was bitter. "Just answer this: are you and Feliks plotting to get rid of me?"

Raivis blinked away tears, confused. Then, he realized. " _What?!_ " He yelled.

Eduard took a step back.

"That's ridiculous! I would never get rid of you!" Raivis' voice was somewhat shrill, breaking all over his words. "I'm trying to do the opposite!"

"What does that mean?!" Eduard yelled back, frustrated.

"I'm in love with you!"


	9. The Ghost

**Sorry I wasn't able to update twice last month like i was hoping, but in my defense, February is the shortest month in the year. I'm probably going to be able to update again this month, since I've already got like half the next chapter written. Let's keep our fingers crossed.**

 **And as always, enjoy.**

* * *

"Hey Luddy, I got a letter from Mattie!" Gilbert announced, walking into the room. Ludwig looked up, and so did Erika and Natalya, who were engaged in a game of chess.

"That's nice," Ludwig said mildly.

"But-" Gilbert ripped the envelope open- "I think you'll want to hear what he says."

Ludwig raised an eyebrow as his brother pulled the letter out, unfolded it, and cleared his throat.

"My dear Gilbert,

"I have just sent a letter to King Ivan, but I think you shall receive this first. I have decided that the American Kingdom is going to ally with the Soviet Kingdom, and consequently, the Germanic Kingdom, in the coming war. Our army isn't as big as yours, but we will help out where we're needed."

Gilbert scanned the letter for a few moments. "The rest is, uh, private."

"Well that's great," Ludwig said. "We're catching up to the Baltics."

"That we are," Gilbert grinned, before wandering off again.

"Checkmate," Erika spoke.

Natalya turned her gaze back to the chess game. It was true; there was no way her king could evade capture.

"You win again," She conceded, and Erika's face lit up. "You're really good at this."

"Thank you," Erika replied, beginning to collect the pieces. "I play with big brother all the time."

Natalya sighed. That was been their fourth game of chess today, and Erika had won all of them.

"I don't mean any offence, but I am extremely bored," she admitted with a sheepish laugh. "Can we do something different?"

"Of course." Erika set the chessboard back in its box. "What were you thinking of?"

"Well," Natalya paused. "I wanted to go out and look for a ghost."

"Look for a ghost?" Erika repeated. "Why?"

Natalya shrugged. "Just to talk to it. They're quite interesting to talk to, if you earn their trust."

"How do we find one?" Erika asked. Natalya smiled.

"They usually inhabit old buildings. The older the building, the older the ghost in it will be. They like to find a place that reminds them of when they were alive."

"That's sort of sad," Erika mused. "But I suppose people that haven't moved onto the afterlife is a sad concept in itself."

"So do you want to find a ghost?"

Erika hesitated, then said, "Sure, let's go."

Natalya jumped up and practically skipped away, her mind already on which buildings would be best. Erika followed, slightly apprehensive.

"How will we know if we've found one?" She asked, as two servants helped them into jackets. "And how do we contact it?"

"I can see them," Natalya admitted. "They look different from normal humans. Their skin is rather greyish."

"Can everyone who practises magic see them?" Erika inquired further.

"No," answered Natalya. "It's just an ability I've always had. It's what pushed me to learn more about magic in the first place."

"Oh," Erika breathed.

The two left the Palace and walked through the courtyard.

"Does anyone else know... about your ability?" Erika's voice was hesitant.

"No." Natalya looked Erika in the eyes. The violet of them seemed cold and dark, yet burning at the same time. Erika's stomach jumped as she looked into them. "I'd like to keep it that way."

"I won't tell," Erika promised.

Natalya smiled softly in response.

They reached the stables and got into a carriage. Soon, they were rolling through the streets of Berlin. They got out at Alexanderplatz once more.

"When the clock strikes three o'clock, we shall be back," Erika informed the driver. "Now, let's go," she said to Natalya.

"What's the oldest building you can think of?" Natalya asked, linking her arm with Erika's.

"The library," Erika answered immediately.

"Then let's go to the library." Natalya began walking.

The library was a vast, old building, one of the first buildings int he city. Wings were constantly being built or destroyed, to accommodate more books, or simply crumbling from old age.

"This is a lovely place," Natalya stated. "Much nicer than the library at the Palace."

"I think so, too." Erika tipped her head back, looking up at the books stacked to the high ceiling. Dust floated serenely through the golden light, filtering in through the windows, like it was caught in honey. "There's something magical about this place."

"Let's hope there's something ghostly about it as well," Natalya smirked.

They began to search the library, Natalya peering carefully at the skin of anyone they passed. But she saw no grey skin, so they left the library.

After that, they walked along the streets, popping into any building that looked reasonably old. It was drawing close to three o'clock when Natalya spotted a ghost, lurking in the back of an apothecary.

"Hello," she said gently. Erika stood behind her, peering over her shoulder. She, of course, saw nothing.

"Hello, my name is Natalya." She took a step forward, looking at the ghost.

He looked to be a boy of about her years, with the beginnings of a beard on his chin. His eyes were like stones, heavy and dark. His hair was brown and wavy, though withered and listless. Many emotions flitted across his face, from fear to curiosity.

"What's your name?" Natalya asked.

"Mark," he spoke. His voice was a grating whisper.

Erika's stomach tumbled as Natalya grinned. Though she knew Natalya wouldn't put her in any danger, it was eerie to watch her have a conversation with seemingly no one.

"Nice to meet you, Mark." Excitement started to creep in at the edges of Natalya's gentle tone. "How old are you? I'm nineteen."

"Eighteen," Mark supplied. He was swaying on the spot, as if unsure whether to step forward or back. "Well, I _was_ eighteen, fifty years ago."

"That's still young." Natalya laughed lightly. "You don't look a day over twenty."

Mark chuckled. "No one has ever been able to see me before."

"I'm not like most of the living," said Natalya. "Not to be too forward, but how did you die?"

Mark shrugged. "I got run over by a cart. I was quite clumsy actually." His voice was growing louder. He seemed to be getting more comfortable with speaking to her.

Natalya turned to Erika. "This is Mark. He got run over by a cart fifty years ago."

Erika waved.

"Can she see me as well?" Mark asked.

"No," Natalya told him.

"I'm not feeling well suddenly," Erika said faintly. "Is it alright if I wait for you a few aisles over?"

"Of course. I'll catch up with you in a few minutes." Natalya smiled, then turned back to where the ghost was.

Erika crept away, thankfully out of earshot of Natalya's end of the conversation. She supposed she was being rude, but she couldn't stand watching Natalya talk to the empty air. It was eerie.

She stood in blissful silence for a while, but after some time she began to hear Natalya again. She was getting excited, the volume of her voice rising. Erika sighed.

"No! I wish though," she heard Natalya laugh. There was a pause. "I doubt it. Besides, I don't think her brother would let her."

 _Are they talking about me?_ Erika thought.

"Yeah, pretty much... I suppose. I wouldn't want to do that, though... Anyway, I should go. It was very nice meeting you... Alright, I will. Goodbye!" Erika heard footsteps, then Natalya popped into her aisle.

"Are you ready to go?" She asked.

"Yes," Erika said gratefully.

They walked back to Alexanderplatz, mostly in silence. Natalya was happy, there was a smile on her face and a spring in her step. Erika, on the other hand, was feeling conflicted. She wanted to ask Natalya about whether she'd been talking about her with the ghost, but it was a private conversation. She supposed she forfeited any right to knowing what they were talking about when she asked to be excused.

They reached Alexanderplatz only a few minutes after three o'clock. They located their carriage and climbed in.

"Did you enjoy yourselves?" The driver asked conversationally, as the carriage started moving.

"Yes," Natalya replied, and Erika made a noise of assent.

They travelled back to Sanssouci Palace quickly, along the way making conversation about ghosts and Mark. As they rolled through the gardens towards the stable, they saw Irina sitting among some flowers and reading a book.

A slight wind ruffled Irina's hair as she turned a page. It was a lovely day, so she'd decided not to waste it by sitting inside.

Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned her head to see Elizaveta. Her heavy dress swished in the wind.

"Mind if I sit with you?" She asked.

"Not at all," Irina smiled. She put a bookmark in her book as Elizaveta sat.

"Are you nervous about your wedding?" Elizaveta questioned.

Irina paused before answering. She decided to confide in Elizaveta.

"No." She sighed unhappily. "I don't feel much of anything, really. Empty, hollow."

"Ah," Elizaveta responded simply. Irina feared she'd made her uncomfortable.

"Are you in love with Roderich?" She blurted.

Elizaveta didn't act surprised at the question, she just said, "yes." She smiled saying it, with a faraway look in her eyes, and Irina could tell she really did love him. It made her heart hurt. "I was lucky that the man I fell in love with was wealthy and had high status."

Irina cocked her head. "What relation are you to King Ludwig, exactly?"

This gave Elizaveta pause. "I'm not really related," she began to explain. "Gilbert and I used to date. When we were children, during the reign of King Fritz, we were best friends. I was nobody, just an orphan, but King Fritz let Gilbert run around Berlin, and we explored the city together. As we grew older, we began dating secretly, but when King Fritz died I moved into Sansoucci Palace. Gilbert told everyone I was some noblewoman, but could only read a few words at the time. Anyway, as time went on, things changed. I wanted to break up with him, but then I would lose the only permanent home I ever had. He made it easy, however, because then he met Matthew. We agreed to break up, and that I would remain in the household. By this time everyone knew the truth, so we really didn't have anything to hide. A few years ago I met Roderich at a party, and I knew I'd found my husband."

"That's a lovely story," Irina sighed.

Elizaveta placed her hand on Irina's. "I'm sure you'll have a lovely story to tell your children, too."

Elizaveta's eyes were warm and her smile was kind, but her words twisted Irina's stomach cruelly.

* * *

Ivan had underestimated how lonely he'd be in Castle Kremlin without his sisters. They hadn't spent much time together as of late anyhow, but with them gone, a part of him felt empty. It made him realize how truly dependant he was.

He had to get used to it, though. Irina would be giving in another Kingdom from now on, and Natalya would be married within the next five years. At least, she should be. Natalya usually didn't conform to the unwritten rules of what women were supposed to do.

A sharp knock at the door roused Ivan from his thoughts. He tore his gaze away from the map on the table in front of him and called, "enter!"

A page entered, holding a letter. "This came for you, your Majesty." He placed it on the table.

"Thank you." Ivan nodded at the page, who then left the room.

Turning his attention to the letter, he drew in a breath when he saw it was addressed in Yao's handwriting. He tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter.

 _Dear Ivan,_

 _Yesterday, I received some startling news, which has caused me to think on you differently. If you wish, we can meet again. We must be careful though, because you need your territory back, and I've already allied with the Baltic Kingdom._

 _From, Yao._

Ivan lowered the letter thoughtfully. It was vague and cryptic, but he liked what Yao seemed to be insinuating.

He got up hurriedly, and rushed off to find paper and ink.

* * *

A gloomy aura seemed to hand around Castle Odalescalchi that afternoon. Its inhabitants seemed sad as well; the servants were more sluggish than usual, and King Feliciano and his brother were engaged in a depressing conversation.

"Feli, we _should_ enter this war," Lovino was telling his brother exasperatedly. "It's our responsibility to help out the Asian Kingdom. We're allies."

"In case you've forgotten, I'm the King," Feliciano replied. "I'll decided if it's worth it."

Lovino shrugged. "All right. I just thought you'd be glad to face the Germanics in battle."

Feliciano sighed. "For the last time, what happened between King Ludwig and I is in the past now."

"Is it really?" Lovino raised an eyebrow. "You still haven't confirmed your visit to Lady Emma of the North European Kingdom. Could it be you can't move on?"

"Lord give me strength," Feliciano muttered before saying loudly, "fine, I'll write her back and tell her I'm coming. Will that satisfy you?"

"Yes it will." Lovino flashed a rare smile, though a self-satisfied one.

* * *

Ivan bit his lip. He was nervous and sitting on an unfamiliar bed. After exchanging a few letters with Yao, he'd booked the finest hotel room in Moscow. Yao couldn't risk coming to Castle Kremlin, but he still deserved the best. Ivan had paid high amounts of money for the hotel workers to look the other way when Yao came. He knew it was a risky situation, but he hoped it'd be worth it.

A knock sounded at the door, and Ivan sprang up to get it. Yao stood upon the threshold, wearing a black cloth over his head to conceal his identity. Once safely inside, he pulled it off with a breath of relief.

"Did you come alone?" Ivan asked.

"Of course," he replied.

"I hope you like the room," Ivan blurted. He was quite nervous. "It's the best in the city. It's a shame we can't open the blinds because the view is quite spectacular but I suppose thats the price of being easily recognizable. I wasn't sure if I should get food or drink or anything but I brought some wine." He gestured at a wine bottle sitting on the table. "Would you-"

"Ivan," Yao interrupted. His voice was slipping lower, like it was melting. He took a step forward and shrugged off his jacket. "Stop talking."

Ivan complied, because Yao was coming closer and closer and then they were kissing.

It wasn't like the last time, when they were half-drunk and sloppy. It was more sure of itself, mouths moving faster and tongues slipping in. Each of them grasped needy at the other as their fingers scrabbled desperately at fabric. They kicked off shoes and parted for a moment to remove their tunics. Then they were pulled back together again as if by magnets. It was hot and passionate and stumbling backwards. The edge of the bed kicked the back of Ivan's knees and he collapsed on the bed.

Ivan tried to catch his breath as Yao climbed on top of him, but it was stolen away again by Yao's soft mouth travelling down.

* * *

Toris sighed, glancing up at Feliks. They'd been enjoying some coffee together in content silence, but something was on Toris' mind.

"Do you think the speech worked?" He asked out of the blue, worry crinkling his forehead.

Feliks set down his coffee cup. "Of course it worked. What makes you ask?"

Toris shrugged. "Second-guessing myself. It's a bad habit."

"Well, you did great yesterday. Practically everyone was cheering." Feliks smiled.

"I only pulled it off because of you," Toris replied.

"You did all the work," Feliks contradicted, "I only helped a little bit."

They fell into silence again. Tories traced the designs on his coffee cup with a fingernail.

"Can you show me that field someday?" He spoke.

"Only if you show me the library," Feliks said in return.

"That's easy. Would you like to see it now?" Toris stood up.

Feliks stood as well. "What are we waiting for?"

They hurried down the halls of Castle Kaunas, exchanging whispers along the way. Toris stopped at a pair of large, oaken doors.

"This is it," Toris announced, slowly opening one of the doors. "It's not as big as the one in Moscow, but I still love it."

Feliks entered, looking around him. It was beautifully quiet, multicoloured light from stained glass shone on the volumes on the shelves. Walking into the room felt like walking in fresh snow.

Feliks grinned as Toris walked to one of the shelves and began selecting volumes to show him.

"These are some of my favourites," Toris proclaimed, placing a stack of books on a table in the middle of the room. "This one is poetry, this is a book on philosophy, this is one on science, and _this_ is an epic about a hero on a dangerous quest."

Feliks sat at the table. "They sound interesting. Can you read something to me?"

Toris laughed. "Why?"

Feliks cupped his cheek his hand and gazed at Toris, smiling slightly. "I like the sound of your voice."

Toris picked up a book, and with only a little hesitation, began to read. He began to describe a meadow, dotted with flowers, under an azure sky.

Not too far away, Raivis and Eduard were standing in a similar meadow, overseeing the training of a group of soldiers.

The atmosphere between the two was quite awkward, and they'd hardly spoken since they arrived. Raivis really would rather have not gone somewhere alone with Eduard, but it wasn't like he could say no.

Just being in Eduard's presence was making Raivis think about the embarrassment he suffered the day before. After his shouted confession, Eduard had gone quiet, seeming very surprised. Then, he'd quickly excused himself. Raivis had wanted to sink into the ground and die.

"At least it wasn't outright rejection!" Feliks had said.

"It may as well have been," Raivis had replied glumly.

Raivis shifted from one foot to the other. Standing for long periods of time was not comfortable.

Eduard sighed loudly, obviously irritated. Raivis glanced sidelong at him.

"I can't believe Toris is making us do what he's responsible for," Eduard complained. "He's not even doing anything important right now, he's lounging with Feliks."

Raivis made no reply.

"How long have you loved me?" Eduard asked.

Raivis choked on his own saliva.

"T-two years," he stammered.

"That's a long time," Eduard commented.

"It's pathetic, I know." Raivis sighed.

"No, it's..." Eduard cast his gaze around, searching for the right word. "Cute," he finally settled on.

Raivis felt his broken heart break a little further.

* * *

"So, now what?"

Yao glanced at Ivan. Ivan realized how beautiful he was like this, hear messy but face glowing.

"Now, we go home and pretend this never happened," Yao responded.

Ivan shifted onto his side. The covers rustled. "But will this happen again?"

Yao considered. "Maybe."

Ivan lay back down again. "Is this all it is?" He mumbled.

"Do you want me to say I love you?" There was an amused smile in Yao's voice.

"No. But, 'you're more than just sex' would be nice." Ivan smirked.

Yao shifted closer to Ivan and looked him in the eyes. "You're more than just sex." He kissed him briefly.

"We have time," Ivan said softly. "Let's just talk."

Yao snuggled up to him, and Ivan put his arm around Yao. They talked.

* * *

 _Left over middle, that becomes the middle. Right over middle, that becomes the middle. Repeat,_ Feliks thought as he braided Toris' dark hair.

"Did you like the books?" Toris asked.

"I did," Feliks replied. "My favourite is the book of poetry. I like how they compared love to a forest."

Toris nodded.

"They're so right," Feliks continued, "In love is a big, dark, scary place to be, and there's so many obstacles. But if you stop to admire what's around you, it's lovely." He secured the end of Toris' braid with a ribbon. "Your braid is done."

Toris turned back to face him, feeling the hair on the back of his head crisscrossed over itself. "You talk like you have experience with love."

Feliks smirked. "I don't know if it could be called experience. Let's just say, if we were in a forest right now, I'd be stopping to admire the scenery." He then leaned forward and kissed Toris.


	10. The Reveal

**ugh, sorry it took me so long to upload this chapter... I was planning to get it up much sooner but there was homework and other projects and it sorta snowballed. Sorry again.**

* * *

As the sun rose on the morning of Emil's wedding, he was lying awake in his bed. His stomach felt queasy - he was unsure of whether it was from nerves, or the motion of the boat.

The royal family had arranged for the wedding to be on Ice Island, a two day sail from the northwest coast of the Nordic Kingdom. Ice Island was to be Emil and Leon's wedding gift; a sector of the Kingdom to oversee together.

Though Emil was ecstatic to be overseeing his own island, he thought having the wedding take place there was not a good idea. They had a castle ready - many castles dotted the Nordic Kingdom, leftover from the civil war a century ago - but it wasn't as modern as Leon might be expecting. The facilities were old, so new ones had to be shipped, along with servants and food, from Stockholm. Many of the noblemen that were invited lived in or near Stockholm, so they had a long way to travel as well. Finally, Leon and his family had already travelled for far too long just to get to Stockholm. They were weary and irritable, and Emil couldn't blame them. It would be a miracle if they got through the wedding without a murder.

 _At least we're almost there,_ Emil thought, getting out of bed. He heard his stomach slosh. Out his window, he could see the shore, and the castle on a cliff, not far away. As Emil remembered from his history lessons, Castle Vighafid housed the family that unified Ice Island, and led them into a battle with a clan on the opposite coast.

Emil dressed quickly and exited his bedroom, heading for the dining room. His queasiness had made him lose his appetite for breakfast, but he wanted a coffee to wake him up.

Unsurprisingly, when he arrived at the dining room, Lukas was already there. Lukas, like Emil, was an early riser and a coffee lover. Emil sat across from his brother, who handed him the coffeepot and a cup wordlessly.

After Emil had consumed half of his coffee, Lukas spoke.

"Excited?"

"Anxious," Emil responded, looking into the depths of his cup.

"That's normal," Lukas reassured him. "Probably."

Emil smiled. "Thanks."

A knock sounded at the door. "Emil is in here!" Lukas called.

Emil rolled his eyes as he heard footsteps retreating. "This is ridiculous. Keeping Leon and I apart twenty four hours before the wedding doesn't serve any purpose."

"It's _tradition,_ " Lukas insisted, before taking a sip of coffee.

"It's dumb," Emil muttered. "I'll bet you twenty aurium I'll run into him before the ceremony."

"No," Lukas said sharply. "You'll just go looking for him. And we need every second of time to get you both ready. There isn't time for a bet."

"You really should have thought this out more carefully," Emil observed.

Lukas shrugged. "It was Tino's idea, so Berwald couldn't say no. Of course, Matthias loved it, so that was the majority."

Emil nodded, sipping his coffee. They fell silent.

"You know, it's a little funny," Lukas said suddenly. He was smiling his small, soft smile, the one many people didn't get to see. "I'm much older than you, but you're getting married first. I'm not even..." He trailed off.

Emil looked down, his hair covering his smirk. He knew Lukas didn't want to expose the affair, but couldn't bear to lie, either.

"It'll happen," Emil said knowingly, then added, "eventually."

Lukas chuckled.

After Lukas had eaten a hearty breakfast and Emil had nibbled on some bread, Emil took to the prow, feeling the salty sea air on his face.

Emil, having been raised in Castle Riksdaghuset in the middle of a city, had barely visited the sea before. He certainly had never spent two days on a ship before. He'd been told by Berwald it would be a rough journey - first-time sea voyages were never pleasant. But to everyone's surprise including his, he adjusted quite well. Within five hours he'd gotten his sea-legs, and he hadn't gotten very seasick at all. When Leon's family was confined to their quarters from seasickness, he was exploring the docks and watching the crew sail the boat. Everything was always a little wet aboard the ship, so he quickly grew tired of pouring water out of his shoes, and went barefoot. It was one of the nicest feelings he'd ever experienced, the heat of the slightly damp, sun-soaked wood warming the soles of his feet.

Emil stumbled slightly as the ship bounced over a wave and tilted to her starboard side.

The shore was quite close now, and rapidly growing closer. Emil could clearly see Castle Vighafid, sitting atop a jaggedy cliff. It looked to be about a little smaller than Castle Riksdaghuset, though well-kept for an abandoned castle. A balcony jutted out of the castle, hanging right over the sea. Emil knew he'd be spending lots of time there.

Presently, the ship sailed into the port, and everyone began leaving the ship. They all travelled a short distance to the castle, Emil and Leon kept separate, of course. Once they reached the castle, things erupted into pandemonium. Servants ran everywhere, setting up the kitchen, setting up the kitchen, dining room, and ballroom. Tino went into panic mode, shouting orders and directions at anyone seemingly doing nothing. Emil was whisked away to bathroom with four servants, where he was bathed excessively. The ceremony was taking place at five o'clock. It was eleven and there was a lot of work to do.

Emil was glad to bathe; it was quite restful. He felt very calm and peaceful in Castle Vighafid, like it was a second home. He felt happy and optimistic about his future there.

After being cleaned thoroughly, Emil was dressed in the most bejewelled tunic he'd ever worn. It was made of sky-blue silk, with sapphires and lapis lazuli embroidered on almost every square centimetre. He felt like a walking jewel.

"That's what you're supposed to feel," one of the servants said, when he mentioned this. "You're the jewel of the evening." She straightened the crown on his head.

"You're ready," another servant announced, standing up from fastening Emil's shoes.

"I don't feel ready," he muttered.

Nevertheless, Emil was hurried out of the castle and into a carriage, which was rented from a local. The carriage raced towards the centre of town, where the square and the church was. As he arrived, the bells were tolling quarter to five.

Emil got out of the carriage, his stomach doing backflips. He couldn't believe he was getting married in fifteen minutes.

A large crowd of townsfolk was gathered in the square, each one bareheaded. As he began to walk towards the church, the crowd parted respectfully for him. He forced a smile onto his face.

Emil entered the church, a creaky, quaint thing. It was quiet inside, expect for the faint sound of gulls shrieking in the distance. The servants ushered him into a small room to wait for Leon, and fix his appearance.

Ten minutes passed, agonizingly slowly. Then, a sharp knock sounded from the other side of the door.

"Emil!" Leon's voice called. "Are you in there?"

Emil flung open the door with no hesitation, only now realizing he'd missed Leon these past twenty four hours. He embraced him, feeling rather than hearing Leon's breath of surprise.

Emil pulled back, smiling, taking in Leon's appearance. He was dressed in a royal blue brocade tunic, embroidered with clouds and waves. His hair was soft and shiny, his skin was glowing.

"Blue is not your colour," Emil blurted.

Leon laughed. "It's the wedding colour, unfortunately. But at least I don't look like a piece of jewellery." He smirked.

Emil grinned. He'd missed the banter.

"So, are you ready?" Leon asked.

"Of course not," Emil replied, holding out his head. "Are you?"

Leon took it. "Not at all."

Just then, the clock struck five. Emil and Leon took their places as the servants opened the doors that led into the main hall of the church. As the chiming of the clock died down, music began to play.

The betrothed walked down the aisle.

As they walked, Emil was overcome by how many people were there. The church was crowded, with noblemen and guests and family and locals. He stumbled, but Leon steadied him.

As they reached the altar, people around began whispering excitedly. The priest began a speech about the sacredness of marriage, but both Emil and Leon tuned it out. They snuck glanced at each other throughout, small secretive smiles flitting back and forth like birds.

"The vows will now be exchanged," the priest finished, and Emil snapped to attention. It was his time to speak.

Emil turned to his betrothed and spoke. "I, Emil, give my body to you, Leon, in loyal matrimony."

"And I receive it," Leon replied. "I, Leon, give my body to you, Emil, in loyal matrimony."

"And I receive it." Emil cleared his throat. "Leon, I take you to be my husband and I espouse you; and I commit to you the fidelity and loyalty of my body and my possessions; and I keep you in health and sickness and in any condition should it please our Lord that you should have, nor for worse or for better shall I change towards you until the end."

"Emil, I take you to be my husband and I espouse you; and I commit to you the fidelity and loyalty of my body and my possessions; and I keep you in health and sickness and in any condition should it please our Lord that you should have, nor for worse or for better shall I change towards you until the end."

"You are now joined in holy matrimony," the priest announced. "I present to you, Prince Emil Steilsson and Prince Leon Steilsson."

Wild applause broke out. Leon gave Emil a chaste kiss.

They began to walk back down the aisle together, clapping ringing in their ears and strangers congratulating them.

Outside the church was the same; all the townsfolk were applauding. Some threw flowers. Emil scooped up a handful before they could be tread upon, and gave the bunch to Leon. He accepted them with a grin.

Once safely inside the carriage waiting for them, the noise quieted significantly. Leon sighed, relieved.

"So, we're married now," Emil mused.

"The ceremony was only half the battle," Leon said. "Now, we have five hours of partying."

Emil groaned. Leon laughed.

Soon enough, the carriage pulled up in front of Castle Vighafid. As they exited the carriage, more carriages were arriving. They quickly hurried inside.

Only a few minutes later, their families caught up with them in the ballroom.

"Congratulations!" Tino was the first to speak, giving both Emil and Leon tight hugs. Berwald shook Leon's hand, even smiling slightly.

Lien shook Emil's hand while her wife hugged Leon.

"I called it from the beginning," Mei murmured triumphantly.

"Shut up," he whispered, smiling.

Matthias shook both of their hands, prattling on about the good things the future held for them. He mentioned several sexual innuendos.

Kiku congratulated them both with a small smile and shook Emil's hand. Heracles kissed both their cheeks; he smelled of honey.

Lukas shook hands with Leon and embraced his brother. "If anything happens-"

"I know," Emil cut him off. "I'll write.

Lukas pulled away, blinking rapidly.

Yong Soo shook Emil's hand vigorously, grinning. "Good luck with this guy for the rest of your life."

Emil laughed. "Thanks. I'll need it."

"Hey!" Leon hit his husband playfully.

Last to congratulate them was Yao. He shook Emil's hand. "Best wishes for the future," he said warmly. "And take care of him."

Emil smiled. "I will."

Tino clapped hus hands together. "Now, for the party." He nodded at a few servants. Music began playing, and servants bearing refreshments on trays appeared. The doors of the ballroom were opened.

The room quickly filled with guests; noblemen Emil recognized, some Leon recognized, and some wealthy locals. They filled the ballroom with their chatter and noise. Everywhere Emil and Leon stepped, someone wanted to talk to them. Every guest wanted to congratulate the young couple. Some even bestowed upon them gifts: gold and jewels, herbs and luck charms, books on every conceivable subject. All these they accepted graciously.

So many people wanted to talk to them, Berwald suggested they split up. Neither wanted to, but it seemed like the only option. So Leon went with Yao to speak to guests, and Emil went with Lukas.

After a little while, the frenzy seemed to have calmed, so Emil was resting. He was sitting on a couch against one of the walls, letting himself take a break. Lukas had spotted a nobleman he was friendly with, and was now sipping champagne and laughing with.

Emil sighed, stretching his legs. He would be glad when this evening was over.

"Prince Emil?" He heard from beside him. He groaned internally before turning to the lady who had spoken.

"Hello," he said, forcing yet another smile. "How are you?"

"Just lovely, dear." The woman was rather old; she looked just past middle age. Her eyes were a pale blue and her white-blonde hair had strikes of grey in it. "My name is Rùna."

"Nice to meet you." They shook hands.

"Do you know this island very well?" Asked Rùna. It seemed a sudden question.

"Not too well," Emil admitted. "Just what I remember from my history and geography lessons."

"Well, I suppose you'll learn more in the coming years." She took a sip of her drink. "Did you take a ship here?" Another sudden question.

"Yes." Emil wondered what was with all these questions.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"I did. It was beautiful, in the middle of the ocean with no one around you."

Rùna leaned in. "Did you feel anything?"

Emil blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Anything different, or special." She watched him closely.

"In fact, yes," Emil answered slowly. "Lighter, perhaps freer. A homey sort of feeling. But why do you ask?"

Rùna smiled knowingly. "I had suspicions about you. Turns out I was right. You do belong on this island. You belong more than you could ever know." She patted his hand.

"Right," Emil responded awkwardly. "I must be going now, I have to see where my husband has gone. Please excuse me."

Emil got up and swiftly maneuvered through the crowd, searching for Leon. He found him making conversation with a nobleman Emil vaguely recognized. He waited until their conversation was over, then pulled Leon away.

"This is driving me crazy," Emil groaned.

"Me too," Leon agreed, "and I'm hungry. I hope we eat soon."

As if that was its cue, the bell rang, signalling it was time to eat.

"Our prayers have been answered." Emil sighed in relief.

"Thank the Lord," Leon said, taking Emil's hand and pulling him towards the dining room.

The dining room was huge, with a ceiling high enough for a cathedral. Four large, exquisite chandeliers hung over the long dining table, four blazing fires burned in fireplaces in each corner of the room. Nameplates were at each place on the table; Emil and Leon saw they were seated beside each other to the right of Berwald, who was at the head of the table. As people seated themselves around the table, servants began to wheel carts of dishes into the room to serve them.

To start, they served brauðterta, thick sandwich loaves made from dense, dark rye bread, and filled with either smoked salmon or lamb, and liberal amounts of oil and mayonnaise. For the main course came hákarl, a traditional dish made from pickled shark meat. On the side there was sizzling roast reindeer, a local delicacy, steaming and buttery mashed potatoes, and boiled cabbage. To drink they offered cool, frothy beer, rich wine, and brennivín, a clear, unsweetened schnapps. For dessert there was a delectable sponge cake, topped with fresh, juicy berries, light, sweet whipped cream, and meringue.

After the meal, the party moved back to the ballroom. A large amount of alcohol had been consumed at this point, and the sloppy dancing was full of laughter. Emil and Leon started out dancing with each other, but as the night went on faces and bodies blurred and they were separated. Emil found himself dancing with a local girl at one point, taking turns twirling until they each stumbled onto someone new, dizzy and giggling. Everyone was tipsy from drink and dancing, and they were having a good time.

Several hours passed, and the guests began to leave, either for hotels or their homes. Emil and Leon bid goodbye to many of them, but they were so tired they hardly even looked at each of the guests. Their feet were aching and their eyes were drooping. Leon leaned his head on Emil's shoulder, yawning whenever he could. Slowly, the castle emptied of wedding guests, and it was time to retire for the night.

"Can we go to bed now?" Emil asked blearily, once the last guest had left.

"Absolutely!" Matthias winked. Lukas hit him.

"Yes, of course," Tino said, ignoring Matthias. HE gave them a soft smile. "We should all sleep, in fact. It's been a long day."

Collectively, they agreed, and followed a local, who'd been hired as a servant, up to their bedrooms. Emil and Leon were the first to be dropped off, at the master bedroom. To Emil's delight, it was the room with the balcony he'd seen from the boat. The servant lit a fire and some candles before bidding them goodnight.

Leon retreated into the adjoining bathroom for a moment while Emil sat on the bed. Now that it was calm, the insanity of the day truly hit him. He was married to a boy he hardly even knew.

Two sets of white sleep clothes were laid out on the bed, folded pristinely. Emil took hold of one, wondering.

The door to the bathroom clicked, and Leon emerged. Emil looked down at the clothes in his hands, and quickly slipped into the bathroom.

Once changed, Emil re-entered the bedroom to see Leon sitting cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with the covers. Emil sat next to him. Their knees and shoulders were touching.

"Today was crazy," Leon spoke up. "I can't believe I'm married. It's crazy."

"The world is crazy," Emil replied. "We got married for this stupid war."

"Do you think you can live with me for the rest of your life?" Leon grinned.

Emil chortled. "Probably, but the real question is, can _you_ live with _me_?"

"Let's have a bet," Leon proposed. "If i hate you by our first anniversary, I owe you twenty five aurium. If you hate me, you owe me twenty five aurium."

"Deal," Emil agreed. They shook on it. "And we should go to bed now, it's quite late." He blew out the candles.

Emil and Leon shifted to the side, and got under the covers. They rearranged themselves until they were comfortable; they lay in silence.

Emil was just beginning to drift off when he felt Leon's soft lips on his jaw.

His eyes snapped open. Leon kissed his way up Emil's face to his lips. Emil closed his eyes and returned the kiss, though a sense of dread was beginning to curdle in his stomach. Leon threaded his hand into Emil's hair and deepened the kiss. Emil tentatively placed his hand on Leon's jaw. Emil's stomach jumped when Leon climbed on top of him. He pulled away from the kiss and placed his hand on Leon's chest, pushing him back slightly.

"Are... Are we really going to do this?" His voice was heavy and dark. Both knew exactly what _this_ was.

"Well, we have to. It's the last step to the marriage," Leon whispered.

Emil shifted back further. "I'd rather not."

Leon sat up, confusion written across his face. "Not ever?"

Emil was quiet for a long time. "No," he told him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Leon said softly. He rolled off Emil and lay back down.

Emil breathed a sigh of relief.

"You should have been a priest," Leon spoke up.

Emil laughed, surprised. "Royalty can't become clergymen. Besides, I have little interest in the Church." He looked over at Leon.

"That's probably for the best." Leon had his hands under his head and was staring up at the ceiling. "The Church is even more corrupt than the Soviet Kingdom."

Emil chuckled at Leon's joke. "Lukas holds a special disdain for the Church's version of worship. He believes the old myths, where faeries and sprites aren't agents of the Devil, but benevolent creatures." He paused. "I suppose I somewhat believe that as well."

"None of my family really likes the Church either," Leon replied. "Of course, we have to worship their way to keep up appearances. Yao also likes to tell old myths, about dragons and such."

"I don't know," Emil mused, "maybe the old myths are right. Maybe there is no God, just creatures."

"I do think there is a deity up there somewhere." Leon shrugged. "Peering down at us from the sky, pulling the puppetstrings of the world from beyond the stars. I only dislike the way the Church tells us to worship Them."

"Oh," Emil said, getting an idea. "Speaking of the sky, would you like to see something marvelous?"

"Sure."

Emil hopped out of bed, excited to show Leon what he was thinking of. He could sometimes see them from Stockholm, but he knew they'd be more beautiful and brilliant here.

Once Leon had hauled himself out of bed, Emil dragged him over to the window and pulled the curtain aside. Leon gasped.

The glowing green of the Northern Lights sprawled across the bluish-black night sky. The shades of green were ever changing, shifting and blending from bright to muted. Millions of white stars speckled the sky; even a few constellations were visible. The green of the Lights reflected off the chunks of ice in the choppy sea below, making the whole view more lovely and ethereal.

"Wow," Leon breathed.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Emil sighed.

"Stunning. Breathtaking."

Emil smirked. "Maybe it's God's reward for putting up with the harsh cold."

Leon laughed softly. His eyes were glued to the window. Emil turned his gaze back to the view thoughtfully.

"You know, I think the Church has piety wrong," said he. "I think, if you love and respect God, and love and respect others, then He will love and respect you. I don't think k there's any need for complicated ceremonies, or nuns or archbishops."

"I suppose people get distracted," Leon responded. "By war, money, politics, or even courting, that they forget the true meaning of piety. That's why God gives us this-" he gestured at the Northern Lights- "so we are reminded of the beauty in this world and that He created it."

Emil was mildly impressed by this. "That was almost as beautiful as the Lights."

They both laughed. Then, Leon yawned. "We should sleep."

Emil nodded. "You're right, I'm exhausted." He drew the curtains.

They climbed back into bed and lay in the quiet darkness. They were on their backs, quite seperate from each other.

"Emil?" Leon whispered.

"Yes?" Emil whispered back.

"Can we- I mean, would you be alright with sleeping in each other's arms?" He asked.

Leon couldn't see it in the dark, but Emil smiled. "Yes," he murmured. "I'd like that very much."

Leon shifted over and cuddled up to his husband. Emil put his arms around him and pulled him in closer. Leon rested his head on Emil's chest with a sigh of contentment.

Just as Leon was dropping off to sleep, he heard Emil whispered something into the night.

"Thank you."

* * *

Birds twittered in the afternoon sunlight outside of Erika's window. Natalya's eyebrows were knitted in concentration as she twisted Erika's hair into a knot; Erika could see Natalya's facial expression in the large mirror they were seated in front of. She could also see the convoluted braided updo she'd done in Natalya's hair. It was adorned with a violet ribbon, her favourite colour.

Natalya began threading a green ribbon through her locks, tying it in a fancy bow. "There," she said, patting it gently. "It's finished."

Erika turned to face her. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," slipped out of Natalya's lips.

Erika giggled, noticing the red that'd begin to tinge Natalya's cheeks. On a whim, she pressed her lips to Natalya's.

The kiss was so soft and short, when Erika pulled away, Natalya almost didn't believe it had happened.

"You feel the same?" She asked, touching her fingers to her lips in wonder.

Erika's cheeks and nose were pink; her eyes were cast downwards, long lashes concealing her emerald irises. "Yes, of course." Her eyes flicked back to Natalya's for a brief moment. "You're so pretty and kind and the best friend I've ever had, and... I want to be more than friends with you." She smiled softly.

"I want to be more than friends with you as well," Natalya breathed. She caugjed Erika up in a passionate kiss, breathing heavily from excitement. She felt Erika smile into the kiss then deepen it, slipping an arm around Natalya's waist and pulling her closer. Natalya leaned in, placing her hand on Erika's neck.

When they eventually needed air, Erika pulled away first. Natalya's cheeks were flushed. They each took a few deep breaths, smiling shyly at each other. Even when they both got their breath back, neither spoke.

In another wing of the Palace, another couple was sitting in silence, though more of an awkward one. Ludwig and Irina had been chatting amicably, but they'd run out of things to talk about.

"Well, our wedding is drawing closer," Irina spoke up.

"Indeed," Ludwig replied. "Should we have had it sooner?" Irina asked. "The Asian Kingdom and the Nordic Kingdom arranged a wedding between their Princes in much less time."

Ludwig shrugged. "It was only for a pair of Princes. You and I are much more important than that."

Irina looked at him. He seemed subdued, withdrawn.

"If you could marry for love, who would you choose?"

Her question seemed to startle him, wake him up. "I'm not sure," he said, regarding her curiously. "I have courted and had partners, but nothing came of those."

"The same thing has happened with my partners. Nothing." She chortled.

They were quiet. Ludwig seemed deep in thought.

"True love exists," he stated suddenly, "but it's hard to find. I felt something like it once, long ago... But it soon disappeared in a wisp of smoke."

Irina felt it would be wise not to respond, so she didn't. They sat without speaking for a few minutes.

Irina stood up and smiled at him. "Come, let's play chess. I'll go find the set." She kissed him on the cheek, then left the room.

* * *

Tiny raindrops shot out of the sky, pricking Raivis' skin like needles. There was only a slight breeze, but it was a cold one. Raivis pulled his jacket around him tighter. His breath smoked out and dissipated in the frigid air.

Behind him, Raivis heard the door to the roof open, and footsteps fall. The footsteps faltered: Raivis didn't have to turn around to know it was Eduard behind him.

"Do you think we'll win this war?" Raivis spoke. He squinted, looking at the mountain range that was now the border between their and the Soviets' Kingdom.

"I think so," Eduard said confidently. "We have the Nordic Kingdom and the Asian Kingdom. We can't lose."

Raivis sighed. "Maybe we should have stayed in the Soviet Kingdom."

"Are you joking?" Eduard's retort was indignant. "The Soviet Kingdom is a mess. It's filled with hunger and disease and poverty. But our Kingdom will be so much better. There's going to be businesses and schools and money flowing into the economy, and the poor will have anough food and blankets, and everyone will be happy. And do you know why?" Eduard was beginning to get emotional. "Because Toris is a better Life than Ivan could ever hope to be. All of us will be the best rulers in the world." Eduard finished his speech.

"Even Feliks?" Raivis asked.

Eduard sighed. "Even Feliks."

There was quiet for a moment. Then, Raivis spoke again.

"They're going to get married." His voice was wistful. "Toris and Feliks. Maybe not soon, but they will. They spend every moment of every day together, and all they while they're so happy." Raivis looked down at his hands.

"Yeah..." Eduard trailed off. "I suppose I'd be alright with that. He's not a terrible person and he has been helpful, so if Toris wants to marry him, sure."

Raivis looked back at Eduard, smiling slightly. "Why did you come up here?"

"I wanted someplace to think," he replied. "The Castle feels a bit stuffy right now."

Raivis nodded. "That's why I came up here as well... I can leave if you like-"

"No, no. Stay." Eduard sat next to Raivis.

They were silent for several minutes, watching the horizon and feeling the rain on his skin.

"I wonder how this will play out," Eduard mused.

Raivis looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"In the future," Eduard expounded. "When we're long dead. Will the Kingdom be strong and formidable? Or will it be as weak as the Soviet Kingdom?"

"I'll pray for the former."

"I as well."

* * *

Natalya pulled away from the kiss she was engaged in, taking a gulp of air. She cupped Erika's face in her hand and sighed happily.

"You should probably go back to your own room for tonight," Erika murmured.

"Must I?" Natalya whispered, rubbing her thumb over Erika's cheek.

"Yes." Erika laughed softly.

"Oh well," Natalya said, pressing another kiss to Erika's soft lips. "Goodnight." She stood and walked to Erika's door.

"Goodnight," Erika replied.

Natalya walked along the halls, about to burst with happiness. She found herself giggling - something she never did - as she entered her own room. She was delighted; she was certain this was the best day of her young life.

She walked over to the nightstand and lit the candle standing upon it. Then, she turned around and got the fright of her life.

"Hey Natalya," Mark said. "I have some news you'll want to hear."

He looked rejuvenated; his hair had more life and his skin was a richer tone of grey. A frown pulled at the corner of his lips.

"I hope it's worth almost scaring me to death," she said.

Mark didn't laugh. "Maybe you should sit down."

"Alright, what is it?" Natalya sat on the edge of her bed.

"Well, I was travelling around, using that astral projection trick you taught me," he began, "and I decided to visit your brother, the one you've told me so much about. But I walked in on... Well, I discovered he's having an affair. With King Yao."

"Are you serious?" Natalya asked incredulously.

"Deadly." Mark nodded grimly.

Natalya sat in stunned silence for a few long moments. Then she spoke again. "What I don't understand is, why Yao?" She threw her hands up. "We're enemies in this war, the war _he chose_ to start."

"I'm just telling you what I saw." Mark shrugged.

"Well, thank you for letting me know." Natalya sighed heavily.

"You're welcome," he responded. "Oh, and - I saw you made your move on Princess Erika. Congratulations."

"Actually, she made a move on me," Natalya corrected.

"Oh, really?"

"I'll tell you all about it later," she said, feeling her cheeks heating up. "Now, I have to sleep."

"Of course." Mark nodded. "Goodbye, then." His form began to get lighter and lighter until he faded away completely.

Natalya change into her nightdress quickly and got into bed.

She couldn't get to sleep.


	11. The Switch

Buckingham Palace was buzzing with activity that evening, everyone preparing for the arrival of guests. King Arthur stood in the foyer, awaiting King Feliciano and his brother. Lady Emma stood beside him, dressed in a flowing, sky-blue gown with cherry accents. Francis and Lars were waiting in the parlour.

At that moment, the golden-wrought doors opened with a sweeping motion. Lovino and Feliciano stood upon the threshold. They stepped inside, Feliciano wearing a bright smile.

"Welcome," Arthur said, holding out a hand to shake Feliciano's. "Nice to finally meet you, King Feliciano."

Feliciano grasped Arthur's hand, then pulled him close and kissed both his cheeks. "Same to you, King Arthur," he grinned, pulling away.

"Lady Emma, this is King Feliciano," Arthur introduced them, his cheeks slightly red. "King Feliciano, this is the Lady Emma."

"Delighted." Feliciano kissed her hand.

"I've heard much about you," Emma told him. "Lovino certainly has a high opinion of you."

Feliciano smirked. "If he does, he never shows it around me."

Arthur and Emma laughed lightly. Lovino rolled his eyes, but he was fighting off a smile.

The brothers were shown into the parlour, where Francis and Lars were. Cookies and cupcakes were laid out on a tray on the table, along with miniature sandwiches. Feliciano helped himself to a cookie.

The conversation that floated around the parlour was rather awkward. Lovino and Emma were giving each other sidelong glances and eminating a tense aura, and Lars hardly took part in the conversation at all. Francis would occasionally make a comment, but Arthur would always talk over him. So mostly, the conversation consisted of Feliciano, Arthur, and Emma. They managed to stay away from the topic of the war for a surprisingly long time, but eventually, it was brought up.

"The whole thing seems ridiculous," Arthur commented. "They dragged everyone into it when they didn't need to."

"It's a contest of 'who can get the biggest army?'" Emma said. "They don't even need to physically fight to make war."

"It is blown out of proportion," agreed Feliciano. "But unfortunately, we have to participate."

"Oh?" Emma raised an eyebrow.

"We're allied with the Asian Kingdom," he explained. "As Princes Leon and Emil recently got married, we're effectively on the side of the Baltic Kingdom."

"Oh." A silence fell over the party. Feliciano realized his mistake, and looked down.

"So, Feliciano," Arthur said loudly, "how exactly did you ally with the Asian Kingdom?" He smiled encouragingly.

"Oh, one of our Lords marries a Prince from there, Prince Kiku."

"I met him once, several years ago. Very polite man." Arthur nodded, almost as if he was talking to himself.

"He is," Feliciano agreed. "Heracles loves him very much."

"How are your other Lords?" Emma jumped in. "Vlad and Aleksandar? I haven't seen them in years."

"Good," Lovino muttered.

"They're well," Feliciano replied, ignoring his brother. "They're courting now."

"Oh, I'm happy for them. For how long?" She took a pastry from the tray.

"I think around nine months."

"Lovino, how are you?" Francis asked him quietly, while Feliciano and Emma continued talking.

"Well enough," Lovino responded. "You must be doing well. Toni says you've got a different lover, _again._ I swear, you go through partners like I go through tomatoes."

Francis laughed. "You should see her, though. Beautiful woman. Blonde curls, expressive face, exquisite figure. She makes me laugh, too."

"Does she know you're going to move on in about two weeks?" Lovino quipped.

"Of course!" Francis seemed offended that Lovino would even think he could lead a woman on. "I always make my intentions very clear. If I didn't, it would be as bad as outright lying."

Lovino held up his hands. "Just checking."

A servant offered them a drink. Francis took a glass of sparkling white wine, Lovino took a glass of red wine.

"So then I said, 'I am quite respectable, I can assure you of that!' And then I left, quick as a fish," Emma said, giggling a little bit.

"That actually happened to you?" Feliciano said, mouth open.

"Oh, yes. Of course, I wish it hadn't."

"When was this?" Lars asked her.

"Last week. I thought I told you already." She shrugged.

"You didn't." Lars seemed annoyed, but maybe he wasn't. It was hard to tell with him.

"Let's not speak of such a dismal subject," said Emma hastily. She snapped her fingers at a nearby servant. "More wine for everyone. We're not having fun yet." She laughed light-heartedly.

More wine certainly got the party to enjoy themselves; after another glass they were acting like longtime friends. Arthur didn't want to drink too much, as he got drunk quite easily, and a drunken King was always unseemly. But something about this night mad him take gulp after gulp, and before long he was intoxicated. He knew it was a bad idea - he knew that with every fibre of his being. Another thing he knew was that with each sip, his feelings of loneliness, anger, and shyness were being washed away. And that made him not care.

The guests seemed to be having fun; Feliciano has even engaged Lars in the conversation. They were laughing now, Feliciano with a flush on his cheeks, eyes warm like melted caramel. His mouth was open wide for a loud laugh, his hand in the air, gesturing without rhyme or reason. His knee bumped against Arthur's knee, but he didn't apologize. As Arthur watched him, he felt something, pooling hotly in his stomach.

Desire.

"Arthur?" Francis' voice cut harshly into his thoughts.

Arthur blinked hard. Francis was speaking to him, but the words were blurry and rushing past his ears too fast. He flapped his hand wearily and focused on Feliciano. Francis rolled his eyes, and Arthur didn't care.

As the evening continued, the party grew more and more tired. Eventually, they decided it was time to retire for the evening.

"If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your rooms for the night," said a servant. She smiled tiredly, leading the brothers out of the room. The rest bid them goodnight.

"I'm going to bed as well," Emma announced, stifling a yawn.

"I as well," Lars mentioned.

"I'll stay up for a bit," said Arthur. "I'm not sleepy."

"Well, okay. Goodnight." Lars and Emma left the room.

Arthur sighed, taking a moment to enjoy the quiet. His wine glass was sitting on the table, half-full. Against his better judgement, he finished it off.

A knock sounded on the other side of the door. "Come in," Arthur called curiously.

Feliciano entered. "One of the guest bedrooms isn't ready yet, so I came here to wait." He sat back down beside Arthur.

"Ah."

They were silent for a minute.

"So why are you really trying to get married?" Arthur asked. The question had been plaguing him since Feliciano arrived. "Hm?"

"To move on," Feliciano sighed. His joyous mood, which he'd had all evening, had suddenly evaporated.

"I know the feeling," Arthur replied, nodding. He began to pat Feliciano's arm, realizing he was losing control of his King-like demeanour. "That frog broke my fucking heart. It's broken beyond repair." He could feel himself blushing. _I should not have said that,_ he thought.

"King Ludwig broke mine," Feliciano admitted, looking at his hands. "It's like he forgot me entirely. One day he just stopped contacting me. I thought he was sick, or even on the brink of death, but he wasn't. He just didn't want to love me anymore." Feliciano sniffed back a tear.

"Fuck, don't cry." Arthur attempted to wipe away Feliciano's tears, but only succeeded in smacking him in the face. Feliciano giggled wetly. "What you need to do is forget."

The air in the room shifted instantly, from casual camaraderie to tense, suppressed passion.

Feliciano looked at Arthur carefully. His green eyes were dark and smouldering.

He made a decision.

"I do need to forget," he whispered, sliding his hand up Arthur's knee. He leaned in close. "Can you make me?"

Arthur nodded, then kissed him desperately. The kiss was sloppy and full of tongue. They were two people craving the touch of another.

Arthur pulled away. "I've been wanting this all evening, so badly, you don't even know."

"I'll make it so good," Feliciano breathed, his fingers scrabbling at Arthur's clothes. "So fucking good you'll never forget it."

"Shit," Arthur choked out. Feliciano got his tunic off. "Here?"

"Why not?" Feliciano mouthed along Arthur's collarbone. "On the table."

Arthur lay on his back on the table and Feliciano climbed on top of him. As Arthur tried to suppress his moans, he could feel Feliciano's smirk on his skin.

* * *

Birds chirped joyously in the trees that lined the road. It was mid-morning, and the sun shone brightly. Travelling along that road in a carriage was Toris and Feliks. The latter was extremely exhausted, yawning every five minutes.

"Sorry," Feliks said through a yawn. "I don't usually get up this early."

"It's ten o'clock," Toris told him.

"Exactly!" Feliks yawned again. Toris laughed.

"We've arrived," the driver called. The carriage halted, and the two passengers looked out the windows. The field they saw was exactly as Feliks had described: acid-green grass, flowers everywhere. And when they stepped out of the carriage, they breathed in fresh, dewy air.

"Who does this field belong to, anyway?" Toris asked, squinting in the sunlight.

"No one," Feliks answered, beginning to unlace his boots. "Not anymore." He stepped out of his shoes.

"It's very pretty here," Toris observed.

Feliks slipped his hand into Toris'. "It is." He smiled at him.

Toris smiled back, then gave him a long kiss. It was sweet and fresh, like a honeydew melon.

Toris pulled away. He then took a step forward and fell flat on his face.

"You untied my laces!" Toris accused, fighting off laughter. Feliks, of course, was dying.

"I'm sorry, I thought I was doing you a favour!" Feliks held out his hand.

"Clearly not," Toris giggled, taking Feliks' hand and getting up. Once standing, he kicked off his shoes as well.

"Race you to the other side," Feliks challenged, raising his eyebrows.

"You're on."

They bolted, running as fast as they could. Cool wind rushed around them, their limbs felt freer than they ever had, pumping and churning to move faster and faster. They felt as if they could run forever in this playfully competitive manner; they never wanted to stop. But, as some shrubbery began to approach, they attempted to slow. At least, Toris did. He slowed, and manages to come to a full stop before touching the bush triumphantly.

"I won!" He crowed, turning around to grin at Feliks.

"I can't stop!" Feliks blurted in a panic, growing closer to the bushes. Then, he stepped in a particularly wet patch of grass, and slipped.

"Shit!" He cried. Toris caught him gracefully, before he could fall over. They both stumbled back a few steps, the brushed against the shrubbery, and stopped.

The birds chirped. The branches tickled Feliks' arms, and Toris' breath tickled his face. All of a sudden the sun seemed to grow warmer, like it was shining for only them.

"That was close," Feliks said. He looked into Toris' eyes. They were soft, full of affection and longing.

Toris enveloped him in a passionate kiss There was something freeing about it, like it was the key to a forbidden room. Feliks returned the kiss, leaning in, fanning the flames of Toris' desire. Toris tasted like something heady and comforting: a loaf of sweet bread. Toris tangled his hand into Feliks' hair, and flicked his tongue into Feliks' mouth. He kissed like he wanted Feliks to remember this for the rest of his life, and he would.

As they pulled away, Toris exhaled softly and smirked. He then collapsed onto the grass, bringing Feliks with him.

"Aaah!" Feliks cried, landing on top of Toris, who was already laughing.

"Revenge, my sweet." Toris raised an eyebrow.

Feliks grinned. "You got me," he said, pressing a quick kiss to Toris' lips. He rolled onto the grass and tipped his head to the sky, settling in Toris' arms.

The sky was azure blue, with puffballs of clouds floating across it. Feliks squinted at a cloud, trying to decide if it was shaped like a horse or a cat.

"I'm so glad I met you," Toris said, a little out of the blue.

Feliks looked at him, smiling fondly.

"When we decided to split, I was more anxious, afraid, and exhausted than I'd ever been," Toris continued. He was almost talking to himself, his voice half there and half in another universe. "I knew we were doing something good, but it was so hard to keep going when everything seemed so hopeless and hard." He turned his head to Feliks, pressing their foreheads together. "Then you showed up on our doorstep. I didn't know what to think. But you were so earnest, and... There was something about that twinkle in your eye, something that said, 'give me a chance, and you'll see.' And I'm so glad I did."

A warm feeling began to pool in Feliks' chest, like contentedness was being poured into him. "I know I needed to know you when I first saw you that night in Moscow. I somehow sensed you were a great man."

"I wasn't a great man," Feliks said modestly. "And I certainly am not one now."

"Hey, now." Feliks propped himself up on one elbow. "It took a great deal of courage to secede from the Soviet Kingdom. A lesser man wouldn't care about the people's well-being, as long as he was in good health." Neither said it, but each knew the kind of man who would do that was King Ivan. "You care. You are a great, wise, compassionate man. Never let anyone take that away from you."

"Thank you," Toris murmured, caressing Feliks' cheek.

Feliks kissed his hand. "It's strange, isn't it, how something so lovely as this can arise from something so ugly as war."

"Life is full of risky choices with unforeseen effects," Toris mused. "It's one of the things that make life such an adventure."

"Indeed," Feliks agreed.

* * *

The servant walked hurriedly down the corridors of Castle Kremlin, searching for King Ivan. A letter had arrived from his siter, and judging by her messy, smudged writing on the envelope, it was urgent. The servant quickened his pace.

He found King Ivan in his study, reading something. He quickly folded up the paper when he heard the servant knock on the door, slightly ajar.

"Come in," Ivan said. He shoved one of Yao's letters, which he'd been rereading, into the drawer of his desk.

"Your Majesty, this letter came for you," the servant told him, holding it out. Ivan took it. "It seems to be urgent."

"I suppose I'll find out." Ivan ripped open the envelope, then nodded at the servant. "You are dismissed."

The servant gave a small bow, then left the room.

Ivan pulled the letter out of the envelope and unfolded it. The first thing he noticed was that the servant was correct; Natalya's writing was uncharacteristically messy, and it slanted to the right. Ivan began to read the letter.

 _Dear Brother,_

 _I'm not even going to bother with formalities because I'm so shocked. I know you're sleeping with King Yao. I can't believe you would do this! Do you know how stupid and rash you're being? Might I remind you, there's a WAR about to happen. AND HE'S ON THE OTHER SIDE! What the hell are you thinking? When you're found out, the Soviet Kingdom will be ridiculed for centuries. I would have thought you'd had enough of being made fun of, but your actions say otherwise. You're going to jeopardize our success in this war. I'm sure you don't want that, so why are you doing this?! You need to end this affair, or at least be more careful. We can't have anyone knowing about this. We CAN'T. So you need to make a hard decision._

 _Natalya._

Ivan was panicking. How did she know? And if she knew, who else did?

He stood up and crumpled the paper into a ball in his trembling hand. Then he tossed it into the fire.

Ivan began pacing around the room, thinking furiously. He couldn't risk sending her a letter back; he didn't know how reliable the servants were at Sanssouci Palace. He would have to talk to her in person, at Irina's wedding.

 _Whatever happens, I can handle it,_ Ivan thought, trying to reassure himself. Though, of course, he did not really believe himself.

* * *

Kiku walked down the hallway of Summer Palace, a spring in his step. He didn't know why, but he was in a good mood that day.

He reached the door to his bedroom and swung it open. "Hello, darling," he greeted Heracles, who was sitting on the bed. But when Heracles looked at him with tears silently dripping down his face, he realized.

Clutched in Heracles' shaking hand was a letter. In front of him on the bed was Kiku's letter-box. Its contents were spilled on the bed, all of them love letters from Alfred.

"I-" Kiku stepped forward. Heracles held up a hand, and he fell silent.

"How could you," Heracles asked, his voice thick with tears. "How could you have an affair? And with King Alfred?!" His voice rose in pitch as well as volume.

"I'm sorry," Kiku said feebly.

"You're NOT!" Heracles shouted. "If you were, you wouldn't have done it."

"Baby, listen. I was gone for three months," Kiku tried to explain desperately. "I have desires. And he was convenient."

"Then why did you continue it? For a whole year?!" When Kiku made no reply, he shook his head. "I'm astounded at myself. I'm in love with a lying, cheating snake!"

"Hey," Kiku said, slightly wounded.

"It's true!" Heracles burst out. Fresh tears sprang to his eyes. "You married me for connections and power, and lied to me for years! If you didn't love me you could have just told me, we could have worked it out! But you deceived me, and you don't seem a bit remorseful. You're a filthy liar and a despicable person!"

Heracles stood up. He looked so different, his usually serene face broken and cracked with tear tracks, like a decaying statue. "I'm going back home," he said bitterly. He crumpled up the letter he was holding and flung it at Kiku. "You can fuck Alfred all you want now."

He walked past Kiku, hanging his head. He paused at the door. "I'm going to annul our marriage. And you can forget about the South European Kingdom being your allies." He slammed the door.

Heracles stormed through the Palace, attracting odd stares from everyone he encountered. He nearly bowled over Lien, who grabbed his arm.

"Are you okay?" She asked him.

Heracles shook his arm out of her grip. "No."

"What's wrong?" She continued, but he was already walking away.

"Ask Kiku!" He called over his shoulder.

He made it to the stable without anyone else interrupting him. He called a very confused driver and got into one of the carriages.

"Take me to Castle Odalescalchi," Heracles said.

"Are you sure?" The driver asked. "It's a long way, and you've no luggage."

"Drive," Heracles commanded. The driver floored it.

The drive to the South European Kingdom gave Heracles some time to calm down and think about what had happened more rationally. But the more he thought, the more infuriated he became. Kiku's behavior and treatment of him was unacceptable.

When the carriage pulled up in front of Castle Odalescalchi, Heracles thanked the driver for taking him on such short notice, and apologized for his trouble. He knocked on the front doors.

It was opened by a servant, who looked shocked to find him there. "Your Highness! Welcome home. What brings you here?"

"Tragedy," he answered simply.

"I'll find His Majesty," she said, then rushed off. She returned ten minutes later with Feliciano and Lovino.

"Heracles? What's going on?" Feliciano questioned. The familiar sight of his face somehow sent Heracles into tears again. Feliciano was quick to embrace him; even Lovino rubbed his shoulder sympathetically. Haltingly, he choked out the whole story on Feliciano's shoulder.

"That's horrible!" Feliciano said.

"Bastard," Lovino muttered.

"i'd like to sever all ties with the Asian Kingdom," Heracles sniffed.

"I don't blame you," Lovino responded, shaking his head.

"Neither do I," Feliciano agreed. "I'll write a letter right now, asking the Soviet Kingdom to be allies with us."

* * *

A sharp knock sounded from the other side of the door. Alfred looked up from his book and called, "come in!"

Matthew entered, quickly shutting the door behind himself. He looked resigned; his eyebrows were knitted together and his mouth was set in a grim line. "We need to talk."

"What's going on?" Alfred asked, standing up. He watched as Matthew pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.

"I just received a letter from Gilbert," he said, unfolding it. "And apparently, there's been some drama we weren't aware of."

"Really?" Alfred sat back down in his cushioned armchair.

"Yes. Apparently, Kiku's husband has found out about your affair."

Alfred froze. "He has?" He asked in a measured voice.

"Oh, yes." Normally, Matthew didn't enjoy being the bearer of bad news. But Alfred knew the risks, and carried on anyway. He'd had this coming to him for a long time. "He was incredibly angry. They've severed all ties with the Asian Kingdom, and have allied with the Soviet Kingdom in the war."

Alfred frowned. "But-"

"Yes, that means we're technically their allies."

There was a long pause. Then, Alfred said, "shit."

"Gilbert suggests - and I strongly second this - that you break it off with Kiku," continued Matthew. "In case you ever come into contact with Prince Heracles. He'll probably confront you anyway, but to be polite, end the affair."

"Fine." Alfred sighed heavily. "I always knew he'd find out eventually, I just didn't think we'd have this war on our hands. I never knew love would be this complicated."

"True love is always complicated," Matthew said, for a moment seeming as if he was sympathizing with his brother. But in the blink of an eye, that attitude was gone, replaced with smugness. "You'd better write a goodbye letter."

Alfred found himself blinking back tears as Matthew left, slamming the door on the way out. All of a sudden it seemed like he was buried neck-deep in quicksand, and he could do nothing to stop himself from sinking.

* * *

"So, I'm sure you've all heard the news," Tino said, surveying those seated around the table. He was right; scandalous news such as this travelled quite quickly. "And it appears we're out an ally."

"The Soviet Kingdom now has the larger army," Toris spoke. He stood up with purpose. "Now more than ever, we need to prepare for the worst. We need to train our soldiers to be better, faster, stronger. Develop battle plans and strategies, and have backup plans for everything. I need to win this war - _we_ need to win this war. And I won't let our success become jeopardized because King Alfred couldn't keep it in his pants."

"I agree completely," said Feliks. "But it won't be easy."

"Never said it would be," Toris replied smoothly. "That doesn't matter. Only winning does."


	12. The Wedding

Irina studied herself in the mirror. She looked beautiful, regal, and important, as several handmaidens were milling about and fixing her appearance. She was wearing her wedding dress, a piece of azure sky in a garment, with sunrise and sunset running up the seams. Her hair was in the process of being twisted into a loose updo, stray golden locks falling softly on the back of her neck. Dangling from her hears were heavy gold and topaz earrings. One servant powdered her nose while another painted her lips cherry red. She was an elegant bride.

A girl placed Irina's headpiece in her hair. "You're ready, your Highness."

Irina stepped into her shoes, which a servant hurried to fasten. "I am." She smiled.

At that moment, Uwe entered the room. "Your Highness, you look beautiful!" He complimented.

"Thank you, Uwe," she replied. "Is it time?"

"It is. If you'll just come with me." Uwe held the door for her. She walked through, holding her poise carefully.

Uwe escorted her through Sanssouci Palace, talking about all the changes in the wedding he had to make to meet the deadline, but Irina wasn't listening. She was thinking about herself, thinking about her soon-to-be husband and what she could do as Queen. It gave her tingles in her stomach.

"Are you anxious, your Highness?" Uwe asked, opening the carriage door for her. Irina snapped out of her thoughts.

"Not particularly," she told him. "I'm more excited, actually."

"That's interesting, and a tad odd," Uwe commented, then began talking about the societal and cultural expectations of marriage regarding women. Irina tuned him out again.

Instead, she looked out the window of the carriage. The streets were full of people, but they all parted for their carriage. The people were heading for the same spot they were: the cathedral. Many carried flowers. Some had sweets or small pastries.

The carriage halted in front of the cathedral. It towered above all other buildings in the square iron spokes shooting into the sky and gargoyles perched on its corners. The bell was ringing joyously, and a large crowd was gathered on the steps.

"And that's why, in a traditional relationship, the man has all the power," Uwe concluded, opening the door. He hopped out and held it for her.

"Fascinating." Irina exited the carriage, taking Uwe's proffered hand.

She realized the crowd, which had been chattering in anticipation, had gone silent. Hats were being swept off heads. As she walked up the stairs, they once again parted for her.

Inside the cathedral, Irina heard the crowd outside begin talking again. She heard those in the main hall, seated in the pews, murmuring amongst themselves as well. She laughed softly, realizing she could clearly hear her brother's voice amid the noise.

"Are you ready, your Highness?" Uwe asked her. "Do you remember what to do?"

"Of course," Irina said. Uwe gave her a short bow, and began to leave. "Uwe?" He stopped, and turned around. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome, your Highness." Uwe gave her one last smile, then left.

Irina sighed, taking one last peaceful breath before the madness began. Then she heard the music begin to play, and an attendant opened the door for her.

She walked down the aisle.

The cathedral was beautiful, and there were many friends and acquaintances of hers sitting in the pews, but Irina only focused on the altar. Ludwig was already standing there, looking handsome and regal in a blue tunic that brought out his eyes. He smiled gently at her, and she quickened her pace.

When she reached him, he took her hand and squeezed it softly. It was meant to reassure her, to tell her, _don't be nervous, we'll work out, I promise._ It made Irina happy.

"Today, we perform the most sacred of all ceremonies: joining two souls in a bond of love and commitment," the priest said, placing his own hand on Ludwig's and Irina's. "Marriage is a lifelong promise, a promise, made in God's witness, that these two mortals love each other and will continue to do so for ever. It is a vow that you will always be kind and faithful to each other, and it is something that is not done lightly. By taking this vow you commit yourselves fully to the health, happiness, and well-being of the other, without question or complaint. After this ceremony, you will be joined for eternity." The priest took a breath. "The vows will now be exchanged."

Ludwig turned his gaze upon Irina. "I, Ludwig, give my body to you, Irina, in loyal matrimony."

"And I receive it," Irina replied. "I, Irina, give my body to you, Ludwig, in loyal matrimony."

"And I receive it. Irina, I take you to be my wife and I espouse you; and I commit to you the fidelity and loyalty of my body and my possessions; and I keep you in health and sickness and in any other condition should it please our Lord that you should have, nor for worse or for better shall I change towards you until the end."

"Ludwig, I take you to be my husband and I espouse you; and I commit to you the fidelity and loyalty of my body and my possessions; and I keep you in health and sickness and in any other condition should it please our Lord that you should have, nor for worse or for better shall I change towards you until the end."

"You are now joined in holy matrimony," the priest announced. "I present, King Ludwig Beilschmidt, and his _wife_ , Queen Irina Beilschmidt."

The cathedral applauded wildly. It was so loud it made Irina's ears ring. She flashed a grateful smile at those applauding.

Ludwig offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

She took it. "Of course."

The newlyweds walked back down the aisle. Along the way, those who weren't invited to the party pressed gifts into her hands; she accepted as many as she could carry. Outside the cathedral, people threw flowers and flower petals, shouting blessings to the royal couple. Their carriage was waiting to take them back to Sanssouci Palace, and the got in.

Only when the door was completely shut did Irina allow herself to take a breath. "That was loud," she observed, laughing slightly.

Ludwig took her hand. "Irina... My wife." A smile dawned on his face after he said it.

She reached up and caressed his face. "My husband."

He kissed her, long and slow. She leaned into it fully, enjoying every moment of it.

"You look so beautiful today," he murmured after pulling away for breath. "So lovely, like something ethereal." He kissed her again.

When they arrived back at Sanssouci Palace, Uwe was there to greet them. He led them into the ballroom, where some of the guests already were. They clapped when Irina and Ludwig entered the room.

"Irina, congratulations." Ivan was the first one to approach them. He pulled her into a tight embrace. "Congratulations to you as well, Ludwig." He shook Ludwig's hand. "Treat her well."

"I will," Ludwig promised.

Natalya appeared suddenly, and congratulated them both warmly. Ivan looked at her suspiciously.

"Would you like to meet some of the noblemen and ladies?" Ludwig asked Irina.

"Certainly," she replied, and they excused themselves.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Natalya rounded on Ivan. "I need to speak with you."

Ivan blinked. "Alright." He gestured to the door. "Let's talk."

They left the ballroom and stood in the parlour, which was empty and quiet. Ivan waited for Natalya to say something.

"You never answered my letter," she said.

 _Ah,_ Ivan thought. _Well, it works out. I wanted to speak with her about this anyway._

"Well?" Natalya crossed her arms. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"A question for a question," Ivan countered. He lowered his voice. "How did you know Yao and I are sleeping together?" He was unable to keep himself from sounding desperate.

Natalya raised an eyebrow. "I have my sources."

Ivan sighed angrily. "Who?"

Natalya gritted her teeth. "I'm. Not. Telling. You."

Ivan grabbed her arm. "This is no time for your petty push pull! Who told you, and how did they know? And what can I blackmail them with?"

She wrenched her arm out of her brother's grip. "I'll only tell you this: I know for absolute _certain_ they'll never breathe another word about it."

Ivan paused, briefly wondering if her informer was dead. Then he refocused on the matter at hand. "Will _you_ breathe another word of it?" It was a plea. He didn't bother trying to disguise it as a threat.

Natalya huffed. "All I want to know is why. _You_ started this war. The wheels are in motion now, there's no way it can be stopped. So why choose him?"

"I suppose we couldn't deny the attraction-"

"I suppose you couldn't wait until the war was over, either?" Natalya quipped.

Ivan sighed, deflated. "You're right. This is stupid and dangerous. As soon as we get home, I'll send him a letter, breaking contact until the war is over."

"Good." Natalya squeezed her eyes shut and sighed, letting all her tension dissipate into the air. She opened her eyes. "Come, we have a party to get back to."

They re-entered the ballroom and rejoined the party, Ivan sipping a drink and Natalya chatting to a nobleman.

Looking around, Ivan noticed it was a small party - or rather, a small party for such an important wedding. Aside from both Irina and Ludwig's families, Ivan could count the number of guests on one hand. He supposed his sister has wanted the celebration to be small cozy. He chuckled; standing in the grand, high-ceilinged ballroom of Sanssouci Palace, 'cozy' was not the word that came to mind.

Irina appeared at his side, flushed and grinning. "Don't you feel a little lonely?" She asked, cheekily.

Ivan offered her a smile in return. "Whom am I to speak to?"

She took his arm. "Come, I'll introduce you."

Ivan let himself be dragged around the ballroom, meeting noblemen who were friends of Ludwig's. They were certainly all nice enough, and pleasant company; Ivan even engaged in a friendly debate with one on the subject of metaphors in literature. He felt Irina slip out of his company then, brushing his arm fondly as she left.

Irina wandered through the ballroom with the intention of checking on Natalya. She felt light, like she was about to float away. It must have been the wine.

She found Natalya speaking with Erika. The two girls were huddled close together, the skirts of their grand gowns brushing softly. Erika said something, and Natalya laughed. Her face was glowing, she seemed happier than usual.

Irina turned away from the pair with a knowing smile. She walked towards Ludwig, noticing music had begun to play.

He kissed her hand. "Would you like to dance?"

"Is it that time?" She laughed. He took her up in her arms and they began to turn slowly on the floor.

"How are your siblings enjoying themselves?" Ludwig asked.

"Well, I think," Irina replied, "but you know, this is our wedding, for us to enjoy."

"True." He spun her. "I'll try again. How are you enjoying yourself?"

"Very well." She kissed him briefly. "It's just like I thought it'd be."

Ludwig made no reply save a hum and a nod.

"It's a little hard to believe," began Irina quietly, "that I'll be a Queen soon. But again, I've waited all my life to be Queen."

Ludwig was silent for a moment, then spoke. "I never expected to be King. Gilbert was older, and the favourite, so it just made sense for him to take the role when Fritz died. But he didn't want it, for some reason. I couldn't quite believe it either, right up until my coronation."

Irina frowned. "Isn't he courting a King?"

Ludwig laughed. "Yes, and that confuses me as well. But maybe they'll never marry. They've courted for years without breathing a word of marriage."

The song sped up, transitioning from a partner dance to a group one, full of slapping and stomping. Guests ran onto the dance floor, and they all formed a large circle. Irina hitched up her skirts and whooped. Everyone laughed, in particular a young nobleman.

Irina let loose and just danced. She kicked and clapped, shouted and laughed. She danced like she was alone, like she wasn't about to be a Queen. She let her body decide what it wanted to do, letting careful thoughts of her image fly out the window. By the time the song had slowed again, her feet were aching, but she felt new. Alive, wide awake, like she'd been reborn.

She liked it.

Ludwig caught up with her, clutching his side. She was swaying to the slow, easy beat.

"You're more fit than I am!" He said, astonished.

She took his hand. "Not really, I'm just not showing my exhaustion."

Ludwig laughed. "Time for supper, don't you think?"

She felt a pang of hunger. "Most certainly," she said, and followed Ludwig to the dining room.

Irina was glad to sit, and she saw her thoughts reflected in the faces of her guests as they took their seats at the dining table. Dusk was beginning to fall outside the stained glass windows as the servants began to serve dinner.

First came the soups: Borscht, a thick. hearty soup made from fresh beets, and Yushka, a clear fish broth made from various types of fish. With the soups were sides of Korovai, savoury braided bread, and fluffy potato pancakes served steaming with dollops of butter. For the main course there were several large, roasted ducks, their crisp brown skin sizzling. Cutting into them revealed they were stuffed with apples, a tart, delectable pairing. On the side were huge platters of pierogies, dumplings stuffed with potato, drizzled in thick, salty mushroom sauce. There was also holubtsi, rice and minced beef rolled in cabbage leaves, topped with bacon strips. To drink, they served the usual beer, wine, and vodka, and also nalyvka; a wine made from berries and other sweet fruits. For dessert, there was Kyiv cake, a delectable concoction of meringue, cashew, and chocolate, and pampushky, sugar-tossed sweet dough. Hot, sweet tea was served with dessert.

After the meal was done, the company sat, contented and full, and talked. They talked about their lives to the weather to the latest fashion trends, and for once, not about the war. In fact, it seemed to be forgotten for the evening. They all roared with laughter at a nobleman's anecdote of a business deal gone bad, and no one thought of the financial strain the war would bring. Irina and Ludwig talked about their plans for the future, without once mentioning the coming war. Even Natalya, usually quite a pessimist, refrained from mentioning it. In those hours, it seemed the world was quiet. It seemed there was peace and camaraderie, around the table and the Kingdoms. It was an illusion of course, but the feeling was sweet and rare, so they clung to it.

The evening passed, and one by one the guests began to leave. Irina was sad to see them go; over the course of their chat, she'd become apprehensive about her first night with Ludwig.

When they'd all gone, and their relatives had returned to bed, Ludwig turned to his wife. "Shall we get to bed ourselves?"

She took his hand. "I suppose."

They made their way to their bedroom in silence. It was awkward for the both of them. When they opened the door, they found the room scattered with rose petals and perfumed with scented oils. They paused.

"This is very romantic," commented Irina.

Ludwig laughed. It sounded a little forced.

"And also uncomfortable," she continued.

"That, too."

Irina gave no reply. She let go of his hand and walked a few paces to the bed. She sat down on it and rather hands over the silk sheets. Ludwig watched her from the doorway.

She looked up at him. "Have you been saving yourself?"

Ludwig took a moment to reply. "No." He meandered over to the bed and sat beside her. "Have you?"

"No." She laughed, softly and a little sadly. "Don't tell anyone."

"Your secret is safe with me."

There was another short silence. Irina broke it.

"Honestly, saving yourself for the marriage bed is unrealistic." She snuck a glance at him.

"It's true," he agreed. "People have needs to satisfy, and waiting certainly doesn't satisfy them."

"What if," she said, "in the process of courting, you found someone you were extremely attracted to?"

"And it couldn't be helped?" Ludwig said gently.

"Exactly." Irina turned her gaze to him. "I understand saving yourself is about purity, but purity of body and of soul are two very different things." She paused. "They don't go hand in hand."

"Indeed."

"The inference that you give up your purity after marriage insinuates marriage is impure," Irina continued, seemingly trying to process this notion, "while everyone knows that's untrue. In fact, it's the _purest_ act."

When the words fell from her lips, Irina realized the irony of the situation. IN her case, marriage was not pure. She was married because of a war, not because of love. She had married fro money, for power, for every selfish reason. Her marriage was impure and sinful.

"Sometimes it is," Ludwig said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "It's the Church that makes us believe it's always pure."

"Well, that's true." Irina shivered, suddenly cold.

"Speaking of," said Ludwig slowly, "we still have to complete our marriage."

Irina wrenched her thoughts from the abstract and philosophical to the practical and demanding. "Of course. Would you mind blowing out the candles?"

Ludwig complied, and the room was cloaked in darkness. Irina felt a little safer, like she was guarded.

Then Ludwig kissed her. It was full of emotion, but not soft. She kissed him deeper. _Here we go,_ she thought, then lay down.

* * *

Birds chirped outside the bedroom window. Yellow sun fell into the room from cracks in the curtains. The covers rustled as Irina sat up. Ludwig was still asleep beside her. He slept on his side and snored softly. She slipped out of bed, naked, and sat in front of her vanity.

Her skin looked dewy. Her eyes were a little tired, but they shone a bright blue. Her hair was still piled on her head, albeit messier than the night before, but it was still up.

She reached up and began pulling the pins out. Some were stuck, and she yanked out strands of her hair to undo it. But once they were all out, her golden hair cascaded down her back. It felt strange, having her hair down. It was too heavy, too cumbersome.

Irina stood up and pulled on a white nightdress she hadn't worn last night. She slipped out of the bedroom.

She was back quickly, having found what she was looking for: a pair of scissors. She sat back down at the vanity.

 _Snip, snip, snip._ Locks of Irina's hair fell to the ground, at first heavily, but gradually more soft and she cut less off. Just as she was finishing, she heard the scullery girl enter the bedroom, to start the day's fire.

"Your Highness?" She asked. "What are you doing, Princess Irina?"

Irina didn't lift her gaze from her now short-haired reflection. "It's Queen Irina."

* * *

It was three days after Irina's wedding, and a beautiful morning. There was something in the air that morning, something that smelled of too much pride in one's nationality. It was a beautiful morning, but that something spoiled the soft rain and pink sunrise. The splashing of tiny raindrops onto fresh flower petals wasn't even audible; that peaceful, calming sound was drowned out by the deafening clopping of horses' hooves and clanging armour. Men's voices mingled with those sounds, making the mess of noise more rough and out of place in the beautiful scenery.

Ivan's army was marching over the mountain range into the Baltic Kingdom.

Ivan was at the very front of the procession, mounted on a pure-white stallion. A sheet of chain mail lay overtop of his violet tunic. He carried no weapon, his hands simply held the reins. He yanked them, causing his horse to stop.

The rest of the procession stopped.

They had reached the very top of the mountain, taking a rough, seldom-used trail. A cool wind blew Ivan's hair off his forehead. If his horse took one more step, they would be in Baltic territory. Ivan surveyed the land below him, smirking. It would all be his again soon, and the 'Baltics' loyal to the Soviet Kingdom.

He snapped the reins, and his horse began to make the descent into the Baltic Kingdom. The army behind him followed, eager.

Ivan had made his army leave Moscow in the dead of night, in the hopes of gaining the element of surprise. Now that it was dawn, Ivan expected no less than an army waiting at the bottom of the mountain for them. If not, it was simply shameful; Ivan liked to think he'd taught Toris better than that.

Now that he thought of it, Ivan had taught his Lords many things. When Toris first took hold of the role, he knew nothing about ruling. Ivan was the one to show him how to do everything, from local taxes to laws about what the subjects could enjoy. And yet Toris and the others were so ungrateful that they took his expertise and tried to make their own Kingdom. Ivan couldn't let that happen.

He thought back to that day almost three weeks ago, when Irina told him about their split. He was so surprised, and confused, too. _Idiot,_ he thought, annoyed at his past reaction. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming; Toris had been acting skittish for a while, and his insistence for the Lord's to have their own castle, away from Moscow, was a red flag.

Well, I can't change the past, Ivan thought, but I can change the future. He kicked his horse's flank, urging it into a slow run. The rest of the army followed suit, making the journey even more deafening.

Ivan's thoughts continued to wander for the rest of the trip down the mountain, mostly lingering on the enemy and their allied. He began to think about Yao, remembering moments they were together. He recalled their pillow talk, Yao's glowing face framed by messy hair, the feeling of Yao's hands on his body, the way he moved so exquisitely to leave Ivan breathless every time.

Ivan shook his head aggressively, trying not to think of it anymore. There was a time and a place, and here and now was not it.

His thoughts of Yao reminded him that Natalya knew about their affair, and he grimaced. It was uncomfortable, having his sister know about his sexual relations. It didn't sit well in his stomach; she could tell anyone.

He thought back to when she confronted him at the wedding. He'd told her he was going to break contact with Yao.

Well, that hadn't happened.

Ivan had simply been busy since he got back to Moscow, making preparations for war. And if he'd conveniently forgotten to end his affair, no one could blame him. The Kingdoms were in chaos, it was just impossible for him to remember his promise to Natalya.

His horse stumbled over a tree root, and Ivan was jostled uncomfortably. His train of thought broken, he realized they'd reached the bottom of the mountain. Some ways away he could see a little town. But what made him smile was the army, thundering their way across the open stretch of grass.

It was Toris' army.

If Ivan squinted, he could see Toris at the very front of the crowd, just like he was. He was wearing a tunic the colour of a ripe cherry, and his horse was a shiny black steed. Emblazoned on the chestplate of the armour he wore was a symbol; Ivan realized it must be the crest of the Baltic kingdom. Toris' eyes were narrowed, face set in determination.

Ivan pointed ahead, right at Toris' army, and screamed, " _CHARGE!"_

Wind whipped around Ivan's face, the noise in his ears became deafening. He could see nothing but a blur of horses and weaponry as his army rushed past him.

Ivan blinked dust out of his eyes and maneuvered his horse over to the side where his generals were.

The two armies collided with a terrific _CLANG!_ Men yelled, horses neither frantically as their hooves pounded on the earth. Metal on metal clashed and screeched. Here and there, dark red blood glittered on armour like liquid rubies.

Through the battlefield, Ivan caught a clear glimpse of Toris. He was speaking quietly with another man on a horse beside him. When his conversation with the man was finished, he noticed Ivan watching him. He gave Ivan a smile, a cold, snide one, like he was picturing Ivan begging for mercy.

Ivan chuckled. He was going to enjoy winning this war.

* * *

"Are you sure this is safe?" Erika whispered, glancing around furtively, though the room was empty save her and Natalya.

"I'm sure," Natalya replied, lighting a candle. She shook the match in the air until the flame extinguished itself. "The Goddess loves all Her children. She'll help us."

Erika bit her lip. Natalya smiled softly at her. "Everything will be fine. I promise."

"Alright," Erika relented, "but I'm only here because it'll help us win the war."

Natalya held out her hands, and Erika took them after only a slight pause. "I'm going to close my eyes, but I need you to keep yours open," Natalya told her. "Just in case something happens."

"Like what?" Erika asked sharply.

"Like if a candle falls over by accident. Relax." Natalya's voice was soft, sinking lower than Erika had ever heard her speak. Her eyes were drooping as well. When they slid fully shut, she took a breath and spoke again.

"Lady Empress, Nature's Queen," she began, voice deep but strong. "Who walks alone in lands between. With masks of gold and darkest grey, as night's own ward and fire's day." Natalya's face was like marble, pale and tranquil. Erika watched with curiosity. "No man nor child of human's face, denies Thy works of endless grace. So take my hands by crafted light, take my arms with cunning might. Take my voice and be my words, take my soul of triple thirds. Become my flesh and fill my blood, infuse my bones with mystic flood. And speak we two as name's invoked, Thy will in me, Thy will evoked."

It was entirely too quiet. Natalya was silent, seemingly peacefully waiting. For what, Erika didn't know. Natalya had told her this spell was to invoke the Goddess, but what that consisted of she had no idea. Her heart hammered in her ears. The candles flickered.

Then Natalya's grip on her hands loosened, and her head dropped forward. A harsh wind blew through the room, extinguishing a few candles. Natalya, still slumped over, made a sound. It was a long, wheezy, rattling sound; it was like her voice was being raked over hot coals. With a start, Erika realized she was taking a deep breath. Then, Natalya gripped Erika's hands, and pulled herself up. Her head shot back, cracked, then snapped into place. Her eyes opened, and there was something unsettlingly different in them. It wasn't evil, it just wasn't her.

When the Goddess opened Natalya's out to speak, Erika shuddered. This was the most frightening puppet show she'd ever attended.

"Through many voices my names each are told," the Goddess spoke. Her voice was sweet, softer than Natalya's. Somehow, it had a golden feel to it. "As Dina I hunt, as Dana I hold. As Fauna and Brid, Demeter and Neth, all are eternal beyond even death. In darkness I die though Hel I am still, as Eris I toy, as Kali I kill. The likeness I steal from my brother, the sun, his image and death in My eyes are one. But through My embrace, My children shall rise, no sleep can enslave, no fate can disguise. All those among them, the weak and the strong, the wise and the lost, to Me all belong. And need Ye to find Me, Ye need only call, on sabbat or moon, in spring or in fall. My wings are the wind, My blood is the seas, My womb is the earth, My arms are the trees. And these Mine own gifts to all I bestow, of magic and sight to cure and to grow. But mark Ye this well when dark aims invade, from evil of heart my teachings soon fade. So go Ye in love and take what Ye need, My flesh be Thy feast though take not with greed. And those of the Wise whose beckon I know, may balance preserve Thee, above and below."

Natalya's eyes fluttered shut. She rocked back and forth. Then she coughed and her eyes shot open.

Erika had thousands of questions. What did that mean? Was Natalya alright? But first she waited for Natalya to do something.

Natalya blinked a few times, then broke out into a confident smile. "Now we can't lose."


	13. The War

It was hot. The sun beat down on the Kingdoms relentlessly; it'd been doing a lot of that lately. The summer solstice had not yet passed, but it was safe to say spring was gone. The heat seemed to be a warning, a cryptic reminder of the sin that plagued the Kingdoms. Everyone felt it, the bad energy influencing the weather. From peasants to noblemen, they all felt it. And, of course, the royalty. They were the ones who felt most uneasy, and had felt this way since the war began. They were the ones most entangled, most drowned in the greed and lust of wartime. The heat chided them, saying, _hell's hotter, you know._

Yao sighed, and pulled at the collar of his tunic. Inside the tent was a little cooler than outside, but not much. He shot a grateful look at the servant cooling the tent with a large fan.

"We need to regroup," Toris was saying. He paced around the tent. "We've suffered major losses on both fronts."

Toris had called them all in for a war council. Usually, Yao would stay at Summer Palace, receiving letters on the army's progress. But Toris had insisted on all his allies being present for this meeting. Yao understood why, of course, he just wished it wasn't so. _Why does it have to be so damned hot?_ he thought.

"What do you think?" Toris asked Kings Tino and Berwald, who were also present. Yao thought them nice enough, but he didn't know them well.

"We should stop splitting up armies," Tino said thoughtfully. "The soldiers' spirits and morale are low. Being with their fellows again could regain some visor. Besides, it's not doing us much good to mix and match battalions."

"Excellent idea," Toris said, like it'd never occurred to him. He turned to a general, standing off to one side. "What are your suggestions?"

The general moved into the middle of the tent, looking down at the map of the Kingdoms that lay on the table. "Well," he began, then launched into a long explanation full of military jargon that Yao's brain tuned out. The gist of it was that Yao's army should fight alone on the western front,, and everyone else would fight on the eastern front. "We're going to need you on-site from now on," the general said to Yao.

Yao frowned. "But I have the largest army, and the Soviet Kingdom poses the largest threat. Shouldn't my army be on the eastern front?"

"Your Majesty's army is large, yes." The general replied. "But their Majesties Kings Tino and Berwald's army has the superior techniques." His tone was almost apologetic.

Yao shrugged. "Alright." Secretly, he'd been hoping to find a way to see Ivan again. They hadn't met in person in a while, and only sent letters occasionally. It was much more dangerous now that the war was in full swing. He missed him.

"So it's settled?" Tories looked around at those in the tent. They all gave some affirmation. "Perfect. Let's prepare for those changes."

Like that, the meeting was dismissed. Yao followed Raivis out of the tent, who looked about to melt from the heat.

Raivis was sweltering as he exited the tent and walked across the field where they'd set up camp. _I just need to get through this war,_ he thought to himself, turning down the makeshift road that lento the soldiers' sleeping tents. He liked to walk among them, talking to them and sometimes fixing their bandages.

Eduard caught up with him as he entered the soldiers' area. "Where are you going?" He asked curiously.

"For a walk," Raivis answered shortly. The weather had made him short-spoken - it had made them all short-spoken.

Eduard fell into step beside him wordlessly. He followed Raivis' gaze to the freshly filled graves, some distance away.

"Lots dead," he commented, redundantly.

"Sometimes I think we made a mistake," Raivis said quietly. Eduard had to lean in to hear him. Raivis could smell his sweat. "People are dying in a war they don't even want."

"It'll all be worth it," Eduard told him. "You'll see."

Raivis sighed. "I hope so."

* * *

"Thank you all for coming," Ivan said, looking at the Kings and Prince seated around the table in his tent. Ludwig and Feliciano nodded. Ivan was sensing some discomfort between them, but he said nothing. "I know you've gone out of your way to be here, so I hope it'll be worth it." He looked at Matthew, who nodded seriously. It was hard to take him seriously when Gilbert was almost sitting on his lap. Ivan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"We're doing well so far," Ludwig spoke up. "My army has reclaimed what they stole from us." He scowled at the mention of the stolen land.

"We can't say we've won yet," Ivan said, thinking. "I propose a new tactic."

They all looked at him.

"By now, the Baltics think the fronts have been established. We're going to prove them wrong."

"Go on," Feliciano said, leaning forward in his seat.

Ivan picked up the map off the table, and stood. He pointed to the lines on either side of the Baltic Kingdom's hastily drawn borders. "They've stationed themselves here," he said. He then moved his finger to the northern end of the Baltic territory, where there were no markings. "They've done nothing up here." He pointed to the southern end and said, "nor here. We need to advance from those two points."

There was quiet as everyone processed that.

"We'll need to split the armies up even further," Ivan continued. "Ludwig, I need your army to distract the enemy on both fronts."

"Right," Ludwig said.

"Matthew, your army will infiltrate from the northwest. Head for Warsaw."

"Pardon?" Matthew said. Gilbert ceased softly kissing his neck in the sudden silence.

"You'll advance from the northwest," Ivan repeated with a sigh. "Sneak when you can, but don't run from a battle. Head for Warsaw. If we take the capital, we take the Kingdom."

"Alright." Matthew cleared his throat, looking a little embarrassed.

"Feliciano, your army will come from the southeast," Ivan instructed. "Do the same as Matthew."

Feliciano nodded.

"My army will be split up between the northeast and the southwest." Ivan cast a glance around the table. "Any questions?"

"What are we calling this operation?" Feliciano asked.

Ivan paused for a moment, ten answered. "Operation Ornate."

Feliciano shot him a questioning look, but didn't challenge it.

"That's all, then." Ivan sat back down.

The others stood, and with haste, bid him goodbye and left. Ivan waited ten seconds after Feliciano left the tent, and stood up. He went to a chest, and pulled the drawer open. He took a sheet of paper, a pen, and a bottle of ink, and sat back down at the the table.

He began to pen a letter to Yao.

 _Dear Yao,_

 _It has been far too long since we last spoke. These hot days seem to drag on endlessly It has barely been a month since the start of this war, but it feels much longer without you. I just wish for it to be peaceful again, and to be in your arms again. I've been well recently. I hope you have been too._

He left it unsigned; it was too dangerous to sign it. He waited for the ink to dry, then slipped it into an envelope. He located the seal and heated some wax over a small fire. He dipped the seal in the wax, then pressed it onto the envelope.

At that moment, Natalya burst into his tent. Ivan looked up. She seemed annoyed. She glanced at the envelope upon the table, and her frown deepened.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"A 'hello' would be nice," Ivan told her.

She ignored his suggestion. "Who's that letter to?"

"Irina," Ivan lied, setting down the seal. The wax had cooled.

Natalya narrowed her eyes, clearly not believing him. "If that's for Yao, I'll do something you won't like."

"What do you want?"

Natalya crossed her arms. "Hand over the seal, I need to write a letter."

Ivan raised an eyebrow. "To whom?"

"Erika," she answered. Ivan took note of the redness in her cheeks.

"Really." Ivan held out the seal. He smirked.

She took it with a huff. "Yes, we're courting. Are you happy?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Natalya didn't reply for a minute. Then she said, " _She's_ our ally." She left with a swirl of skirts.

* * *

The pen scratched rhythmically on the paper; Arthur was lost in the harmony between it and his thoughts. He was certain that he'd never written as beautifully as this in his entire life. Usually, he wasn't a poetic person, preferring straightforwardness to flowery metaphors. But Feliciano loved poetry, he loved when words were twisted into something beautiful, something lovely and ethereal. Arthur wanted his letter to fill Feliciano with joy, such as only metaphors and similes could do.

His train of thought was interrupted when the door to his chambers opened. Francis entered, not even bothering to knock.

Arthur threw down his pen and sighed loudly. "What is it? I haven't time for banter."

Francis loped into the room, casual as anything. "You don't?" He glanced at Arthur's paper. "What are you writing?"

Arthur flipped it over. "Something you've no business seeing."

Francis grabbed it off the table, and ran his eye over it. "Wow, I never took you for a romantic."

This rubbed Arthur the wrong way. "You didn't? I would have thought it was _abundantly_ clear."

"Listen, you can stop being so bitter," Francis said exasperatedly. "Just let it go already."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Asked Arthur, very bitterly. "I'm not heartless like you."

Francis huffed. "Yes, you're nothing like me. Because I'm not a little bitch."

Arthur stood up, shoving his chair back aggressively. "Take that back."

"Why should I?" Francis asked cruelly. "It's pathetic, watching you doggedly try to hate me."

" _I LOVED YOU!_ " Arthur burst out, tears at the edges of his words. "I loved you and you made me think you felt the same, and then you fucking left!"

"You said we should get married!" Francis yelled back. "One day, out of nowhere, 'will you marry me?' You should have known how I'd react, you've known me all your life!"

" _YOU MADE ME BELIEVE YOU'D CHANGED!_ " Arthur took a step forward, pointing at Francis accusingly. "You lied through your teeth and said you loved me, that we'd be together for the rest of time! What else was I supposed to think?"

"You're crazy, you're fucking crazy! Sweet nothings aren't an admission of love."

"You made me crazy! You shattered my heart into a million pieces, twisted and tricked my brain so I don't know what was real and what wasn't." Arthur wiped at his eyes, still glaring at Francis. His heart ached.

"I'm not like that anymore." Francis' voice softened. "You made me realize I need to make my intentions clear from he beginning."

"So I'm just a lesson now. Just practise. I suppose it doesn't matter to you that you fucked up the practise." Arthur rolled his eyes. "Get out."

"Arthur-"

"Get the fuck out!"

Francis scowled, then stomped out, slamming the door behind him. The slam reverberated around the room, and a painting fell off the wall.

Arthur looked down at his letter to Feliciano. It was crinkled, the beautiful, carefully written words smudged by Francis' careless hands. Hot, angry tears welled in his eyes and he wept, out of frustration, betrayal, and heartbreak.

* * *

Raivis walked slowly, scanning his surroundings with a careful eye. Toris, Feliks, and even Eduard had warned against him patrolling on his own, but he did it anyway. It wasn't like any of them did it, and Raivis would be lying if he said he trusted that King Ivan would fight clean. One morning they could wake up and find half their army poisoned. Raivis couldn't take that chance.

He sighed as he heard screams from some distance away. Raivis continued walking, keeping close watch on the camp. His feet tramped down the grass, wet from the rain the night before. Half the soldiers were fighting with colds because of it.

Everyone was on the battlefield by now. It was high noon and Raivis was completely alone.

All of a sudden, he heard a loud zinging noise. Started, he turned around to try and locate the source of the sound. Raivis noticed a small dagger sticking out of a tree to his left.

Just as he pulled it from the wood, he was tackled from behind and shoved into the grass.

The man was bigger than Raivis, and he had to struggle quite a bit to roll over. Once he did, the man pinned Raivis' arms to the ground. He forgot to pinion Raivis' legs, so Raivis kneed him in the crotch. Howling in pain, the man let go of his arms. Raivis punched him in the face. Blood dripped from the man's chin, and Raivis realized he was still holding the dagger. The man layoff the wet grass, recovering from being kneed in the crotch. Raivis scrambled up and tried to run. He could only take a few steps before he crumpled to the ground with a scream of pain. A knife was stuck in his calf, thrown by his attacker. Breathing heavily, the man ran over to him and pulled it from his leg. Raivis screamed once again as he saw how big the knife was. The blade was three times as long as the handle, and dripping blood. Dripping his blood. His attacker dropped to his knees and held the blade high.

"Raivis!"

Raivis barely heard Eduard's voice.

"RAIVIS!"

This time it was much louder, laced with distress and pure fear.

Raivis heard thudding footsteps, then the man's weight left him. Eduard leaned over him, shifting in and out of focus. Through the haze, Raivis could see he was crying.

"I told you not to do this!" Eduard choked out, grasping his shoulders. He pulled Raivis into a position where he was half sitting, half lying. Raivis could hear ripping noises, though he had no idea why Eduard would be ripping something right now.

Raivis looked at his leg. It was covered in blood, and more blood was staining the grass. Eduard was saying something to him, but he focused on his leg instead. If he concentrated, he could see the exact spot where the knife entered his flesh. As the wound became clearer in his vision, the pain swept through his entire body and burned his fingertips.

"Raivis! Raivis, can you hear me?" Eduard shook his shoulders, his tears stinging Raivis' hands. The torn shreds of his shirt were clutched in his right hand.

Raivis tried to nod, but his vision was clouding over, and so his head merely lolled to the side before he blacked out.

"No!" Eduard cried, desperately shaking him. Raivis didn't stir. "You had better be faking, I swear to God! Raivis - _wake the fuck up!_ " Eduard's voice broke. Momentarily forgetting about bandaging Raivis' leg, he pressed a teary, desperate kiss to Raivis' lips.

"Fuck," Eduard choked out, then remembered how much blood Raivis was losing. He hastily made a tourniquet, shaking fingers tying sweat-slicked knots.

"Eduard! What's going on?!" He heard Feliks call, from some distance away.

"Get a medic!" Eduard screamed, without looking back. "Raivis has been stabbed!"

Feliks covered his mouth with his hand, his mind registering that the dark patch on the grass was Raivis' blood. He turned and ran, stumbling in his haste.

Feliks sprinted as fast as he could, his mind skipping around in a panic. He knew why this had happened, and it made him sick to his stomach.

He reached the medical tent and burst in, finding several soldiers in need of care. "Price Raivis has been stabbed," he announced, half out of breath. "I order someone to attend to him." When no medic made a move to leave, he screeched, " _NOW!_ "

A medic rushed out of the tent. Feliks nodded at the rest of them. "Carry on." He left.

Feliks began running again, guilt eating up his insides. If only he'd mentioned this before, it could have been prevented somehow. He was an overconfident fool.

He ran into the royal tent, startling Toris. "What's wrong?" Toris asked fearfully. He stood up from his desk.

"Raivis has been stabbed," Feliks said, "and it's all my fault."

"What happened?" Toris waled over to Feliks and gripped his shoulder. Feliks took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Natalya," he answered. "She did this to us. I heard a rumour - _weeks ago_ \- that she cursed us. I only half-believed it, but if I'd taken seriously maybe this wouldn't have happened." Feliks buried his head in his hands. "Raivis could die, and it'll be because of me!"

Toris curled his hands into fists. "Natalya, you say? It certainly sounds like her handiwork. And she wouldn't be above it." He gazed at his fingers. If he looked closely, he could still see the fine filagree pattern of scars that covered them. "Well, no matter."

Feliks looked, his face confused and tear-stained.

Toris narrowed his eyes. "She's not the only one who can do magic."


	14. The Shocker

Yao eyed the letter apprehensively. It lay on his desk, containing words of either a miracle or a great tragedy. He didn't want to read it.

Yesterday, he'd received a hastily scrawled letter from Toris, informing him Raivis had been stabbed by a rogue Germanic soldier. It was crumpled and smudged, and patches were warped as if drops of water had fallen on the paper. The letter was little more than a note, but it made Yao very uneasy. As much as he wanted this war to end, he didn't want it to end like this.

He resigned himself and ripped open the envelope. Unfolding the paper within, he began to read.

 _Dear King Yao,_

 _It is with great relief and joy that I bring you the news of Raivis' condition: he shall live! For the past four and twenty hours, he has been drifting in and out of consciousness, mumbling nonsense, but now he is awake. The only unfortunate thing is, his wound became infected. Our medic was not able to clean it properly, and he deemed that if the infection continued to spread, Raivis could die. So, his leg from his knee downward had to be amputated. It is of only a slight inconvenience to him, of course, he'll learn to walk with a wooden leg soon enough. We are all simply grateful he's survived, especially Eduard. As for our recent streak of bad luck, I can say with fair confidence that it is over. It wouldn't be wise to put down in writing what Toris said, but I can assure you, our bad luck is coming to an end._

 _From, Prince Feliks Łukasiewicz_

 _P.S.: When are you going to join the rest of us on-site? Forgive me, but one does not need three days to personally pack a bag for the warfront. F.L._

Yao tossed the letter back onto the table with mixed feelings. Of course, he was elated that Raivis was going to be fine. It was Feliks' attitude in the postscript that irked him.

Right after Toris had held the meeting with all their allies, Yao had rushed home to begin planning a night with Ivan. He knew once he arrived on-site, the war would begin to accelerate, and he wouldn't see Ivan for a long time. So, he took three days to pack. It wouldn't have been an issue if Raivis hadn't been attacked by that soldier. At least now he had a reason to fight the Germanic Kingdom.

Yao sighed, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. He and Ivan had arranged for Ivan to sneak in the castle that day, where they could then retreat to Yao's bedroom. It was getting close to the time they'd agreed on, and Yao was becoming impatient.

The clock in his study tolled eleven in the morning. Yao slowly rose from his chair and left the room. He made his way out of the Palace, into the vast garden that surrounded the place. Hurrying to a shady and often overlooked order, he spotted a flash of white-blond hair.

"Ivan!" He whispered.

Ivan looked up, his face half obscured by a tangle of vines. Yao broke out into a grin. He hadn't grinned in a long time.

He was by Ivan's side in moments, and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "I've missed you," Ivan murmured, taking his hand.

"So have I," Yao said. He cast his gaze around, checking to see if any gardener so lazy servants were milling about. The coast was clear, so he led Ivan out of the shadowy alcove and into the bright sunlight.

"How are you going to sneak me in?" Ivan asked, as Yao hurried him along.

"I know every entrance and exit to this place," Yao said breathlessly. They'd arrived at a well. "Including the secret passageways." He peered into the well. "Go on in."

"What?!"

"It's only a front," Yao explained. "The well has a false bottom. Pull the latch on the left side and you'll open a trapdoor."

Ivan nodded. "Clever." Gingerly, he clambered down into the well. Yao heard him hit the false bottom, then open the trapdoor. He heard Ivan's feet drop to the stone floor of the secret passageway.

"I'm coming down now," Yao said, then lowered himself slowly in. He dropped to the ground, Ivan breaking what would have been a nasty fall.

Inside the passageway was dark and gloomy. It smelled like must and dirt. Yao could barely see Ivan beside him.

"Romantic," Ivan said.

Yao hit his arm jokingly. "Come on, my bedroom is this way."

They ventured along the passageway, talking quietly as they went. They could hear the hustle and bustle of the Palace above them, servants walking around speaking to each other. After a while they came upon a staircase and began walking up it. Now they were behind the walls of the Palace, not underground. If anyone stopped to listen at the walls, they would probably hear footsteps and quiet conversation.

And someone did. Kiku was walking down a particularly quiet corridor, and he thought he heard stomping in the wall.

He paused, looking suspiciously at the spot in the wall where he thought the noise had come from. The natural assumption would be that there was a squirrel in the walls, but squirrels didn't make thumping noises. He stared at the wall for a bit longer.

When he didn't hear anything else, he decided it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. He continued walking.

Kiku reached the end of the corridor, faced by a staircase. He sighed, then sat on the bottom step.

Lately, he'd been feeling restless and ill at ease. He didn't know why, which bothered him. It could have been the heat or the war, but neither of those explanations felt right. It was like an itch he couldn't scratch.

After a few minutes of idly staring off into space, Kiku got up with a sigh. He continued wandering through the Palace. It was better to be walking and doing nothing than sitting and doing nothing.

He was walking along the corridor where their bedchambers were located when he heard another noise.

Kiku paused in front of Mei and Lien's door. He heard the noise again. This time, it was different than the thumping in the walls, more of erratic movement.

He ventured quietly down the corridor, straining his ears. As he walked along, the noise grew louder, and finally, was at its loudest at Yao's door.

Kiku put his ear to the wood and listened. When he realized who was in there with Yao, he almost didn't believe it.

That was _King Ivan's_ voice. Yao was seeing - no, Yao was _fucking_ King Ivan. As Kiku processed it, it began to make sense. All those times Yao was missing or 'out for an excursion'... It all added up.

A red heat burned in Kiku's chest, and he balled his hands up in rage. _Why that - that hypocritical bastard!_ He thought in a fury. _Preaching about affairs and morality, all the while fucking King Ivan! That son of a bitch!_

At first, Kiku was so enraged he didn't know what to do. He just felt like punching something. So, he kicked he door in.

The expensive wood broke with a loud _CRACK!_ And all of a sudden, there was dead silence. Kiku could see, through the crack in the door, that they were still entangled in each other, under the covers.

Kiku reached through the crack in the door and unlocked it. Then he threw it open, and stepped angrily in.

"Kiku-" Yao started to say.

" _HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!_ " Kiku screeched, his voice much louder than he thought it would be. "HOW DARE YOU ACT ALL HIGH AND MIGHTY ABOUT MY AFFAIR, THEN TURN AROUND AND FUCK HIM?!"

"It wasn't until after I-"

"I DON'T CARE! YOU FUCKING _HYPOCRITE_ , AT LEAST HAVE THE DECENCY TO APOLOGIZE TO ME BEFORE YOU TAKE A PAGE OUT OF MY BOOK!"

"Kiku, can I just-"

"NO! YOU LISTEN TO ME, ASSHOLE! HOW IN THE NAME OF GOD COULD YOU THINK STARTING AN AFFAIR WITH HIM WAS OKAY?! IF YOU WANTED TO FUCK HIM, THEN YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE MARRIED LEON OFF TO THE NORDIC KINGDOM!"

Kiku was breathless and red-faced. Yao's cheeks were flushed as well. Ivan was staring at his hands, maybe hoping Kiku would leave him out of it. He didn't.

"AND _YOU!_ " Kiku pointed an angry finger at Ivan, who glanced up sheepishly. "YOU DISGUST ME! YOU UTTER PIECE OF SHIT!"

"Hey now," Yao said indignantly. Kiku rounded on him again.

"PROTECTING YOUR _LOVER?_ " He shouted, mockingly. "SHUT THE FUCK UP. YOU BOTH DESERVE _EVERY WORD_ OF THIS!"

Kiku took a deep breath. His heart was racing and his face was burning hot.

"This is... Vile." He gestured to the two of them in disgust. "Dishonourable. I don't care how dishonourable I might be-" he shot a meaningful look at Yao- "but this abomination is a thousand times worse!"

"I think you've made your point." Ivan surprised him by speaking in a calm, rational manner. "Now, please leave."

Kiku glowered at Ivan. Ivan returned his gaze steadily, but coolly. Eventually, Kiku turned around and left, slamming the broken door on his way out.

Kiku rushed down the corridor to his own bedroom, his hands itching to hit something. But when he entered and saw his writing desk, he got a better idea.

He sat at the desk and pulled out a piece of paper, a pen, and a pot of ink. He began to write furiously.

 _To whom this letter is addressed,_

 _I may not have communicated with you before, so if I have not, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Prince Honda Kiku of the Asian Kingdom, and I have some news you will be interested in. King Yao, of the Asian Kingdom, and King Ivan, of the Soviet Kingdom, are having an affair. No less than ten minutes ago, I walked in on them sleeping together. I am disgusted, as I'm sure you are as well. I invite you to express your disgust both King Yao and King Ivan. You will find I am being perfectly truthful in this matter._

 _From,_

 _Prince Honda Kiku of the Asian Kingdom._

Once he was finished with that letter, he grabbed another piece of paper and began copying it out.

* * *

Natalya looked up from her novel and she heard a knock on her bedroom door. "Come in!" She called.

A servant slipped inside. "You've received a letter, Your Highness."

"Leave it on the table," Natalya instructed.

"Pardon me, Your Highness, but it seems to be urgent."

Natalya sighed. "Oh, all right. Give it here, then."

The servant scampered up to her and handed her the letter.

Natalya took it. "You are dismissed." She waited until the servant was out of the room to open the envelope.

Natalya began to read, her eyebrows raising with each line. When she was finished reading, she lowered the letter slowly.

 _He's done it,_ she thought in disbelief. _He's gone and gotten himself caught. That moron!_

Natalya looked back at the letter and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fuck," she whispered.

She stood up quickly and sat down at her desk. She had to try and fix this mess, even if Ivan didn't care.

She pulled out paper, pen, and ink, and began to write.

 _To Prince Kiku,_

 _Let me give you my sincerest apologies. I have just received your letter concerning King Yao and my brother. Like you, I am appalled at the actions of both of them. However, I choose to believe the best of my brother, and I will tell you that he regrets this chain of mistakes as well. I know Ivan, and I know that he owns up to his mistakes. Until he does, I apologize on his behalf, and on behalf of the entire Soviet Kingdom._

 _From,_ _Princess Natalya Arlovskaya of the Soviet Kingdom._

She sealed the letter quickly. Everything in it was lies, of course, but she hoped it would help Kiku feel more sympathetic towards Ivan.

Natalya opened her bedroom door to see the servant loitering outside, undoubtedly trying to eavesdrop on her reaction to Kiku's letter. He made an effort to try not to look guilty. Natalya just rolled her eyes and handed him her letter.

"Deliver this," she told him.

"Yes, Your Highness." He began walking away.

"Quickly!" She called after him.

"Yes, Your Highness!" He quickened his pace.

* * *

Toris sighed as he sank into a chair in his tent; it was the first time he'd sat down all day.

Feliks entered the tent and leaned up against the table. "Tired?" He asked.

"Extremely," Toris answered. It was an understatement. Every limb in his body felt overworked and drained. They were more like marshmallow than flesh.

"Too tired?" Feliks asked, meandering over to him. He quirked an eyebrow.

Toris tried to laugh. "Quite."

Feliks leaned in and kissed him. "Later?"

"Maybe," Toris answered, which was code for 'no'. Feliks knew this, but pretended he didn't. He just kissed Toris again, slow and sensual.

"Sorry to interrupt," said a voice from the doorway, and their kiss was cut short. Feliks turned around to see a servant, holding out an envelope uncertainly. "You've received a letter, Your Majesty."

Toris rose with a grunt. He took the letter from the servant with a, "thank you." The servant gave a short bow, and left.

Feliks peered over Toris' shoulder as he read the letter. He heard Toris' gasp of shock and confusion before he got to the news.

There was a beat of silence as Toris lowered the letter.

Then Feliks began chuckling. He chuckled harder and harder until he was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. Toris watched him incredulously.

"What are you doing?" Toris asked.

"I'm sorry," Feliks said, in between bouts of laughter. "It's just - oh, God!" He laughed again, so hard he was bent double. "It's just a comical situation!"

"No, it's _not!_ " Toris' voice was loud and a little shrill. "How is this funny?" We're more fucked than he is!"

Feliks burst into laughter at that. Frustrated, Toris grabbed his shoulders.

"Stop laughing! _Stop it!_ God, get a hold of yourself!" He shook Feliks, and his laughter began to subside. "There's nothing 'comical' about this! Our _ally_ is sleeping with our _enemy!_ The man we thought was on our side is fucking the man I hate! That is _TREASON_ and _BETRAYAL!_ HE'S BEEN PLAYING ME LIKE A FIDDLE, MAKING A FOOL OUT OF US AND ALL OUR ALLIES! AND HERE YOU ARE, _LAUGHING UNCONTROLLABLY LIKE A MADMAN!_ "

Feliks wasn't laughing anymore.

Toris tasted salt, and wiped at his face. It was wet. He sniffed, then broke out into ugly sobs. When he calmed down, he scrubbed at his face with his hands.

"I'm sorry," he said in a soft, scratchy voice. "I'm so sorry."

"No," Feliks said, "I am. You're right, it's no laughing matter." He searched Toris' face. "The war's getting to you, isn't it?"

Toris nodded. "There's so much to do and I'm so _stressed_ , and I can't show it because I'm the King! I have to put on a brave face for everyone else! But I don't know if I can do it for much longer."

Feliks wrapped him in a tight hug. "I'm always here for you, alright? Please know you don't have to bottle up your emotions."

Toris pulled out of the hug, kissing Feliks on the cheek. "Thank you."

He stepped away, then sighed deeply. "What do we do about the situation, then?"

Feliks shook his head. "No idea."

* * *

"Your Majesty?"

Irina's head shot up. She loved being called by that title.

A servant was standing in the doorway of the drawing room. She had an envelope. "There's a letter here for you."

Irina put aside her knitting and rose. She took the envelope from her. "Thank you."

The servant nodded, then withdrew.

Irina retreated back to the couch to open the letter. Seeing the crest of the Asian Kingdom on the seal, she wondered if she should open it. It could be a trap of some kind, perhaps poison. Then again, it would not help the Baltics at all if she died.

So, she decided to open it.

As Irina read the letter, a pit formed in her stomach, eating her up from the inside out. Her hands began to shake, and she gripped the paper harder. Hot, angry tears dripped from her eyes and rolled down her red-splotched face. She kept holding onto the letter, even when her vision was so blurred she couldn't read it any longer.

 _How could he betray me like this?_ was the first coherent thought she formed.

She stood from the couch, wiping her eyes aggressively. She couldn't just sit here crying. She had to do something.

There was a desk on the opposite side of the room, and she practically ran to it. She began opening drawers, looking for paper. She found some and pulled out a sheet, along with a pen and a bottle of ink. She practically overturned the bottle of ink in her haste to write.

 _To King Ivan,_

 _How dare you. I offered my body to sell, as if I was no more than a piece of furniture, all for this war. And you spit in my face with this! You have no concern for how your actions affect others, and this is a prime example! How could you think starting an affair with the enemy was alright?! I could handle it if he was an ordinary citizen, but the King! You are disgusting, selfish, and heartless. I am ashamed to call you brother._

 _Queen Irina Beilschmidt._

Irina folded up the letter and stuffed it not an envelope. She was so impatient for the wax seal to dry that she burnt her thumb twice. But when it was finally ready, she approached the first servant she saw.

"Deliver this letter to King Ivan," she told him, "and make sure he doesn't ignore it."

* * *

"What's going on?" Matthias whispered to Lukas as they entered the conference room. Berwald and Tino were waiting for them.

"I don't know, but I don't think it's anything good," Lukas replied, glancing at Berwald. He was pacing quickly, his normally placid face alive with anger. It made Lukas apprehensive.

"Good, y're here," Berwald said, when Lukas and Matthias had joined Tino at the table.

"Why did you call us all here?" Matthias asked him. "Has something happened?"

In response, Berwald merely threw an envelope down onto the table. He resumed his pacing as the others looked at it.

Tino picked it up first, and the other two peered over his shoulder. The broken seal told them it was from the Asian Kingdom. Tino pulled out the slightly crumpled letter and unfolded it. The three of them began to read.

"Oh my God," Tino breathed, when he was finished. He put the letter on the table. "Is this true?"

"Apparently," Lukas said, re-reading the letter. "This certainly is a... Situation."

"'m angry," Berwald said, still pacing. "I can't th'nk straight. Wh't sh'ld we do?"

"I don't know if we can do anything," Lukas mused, "except let Yao know how unhappy we are."

"Unseemly, irr'spons'ble!" Berwald muttered. "We off'red our h'lp to the B'ltic Kingd'm in exch'nge for alm'st noth'ng. And th's is th' family Emil married 'nto!"

"Wait a minute," Matthias spoke up. He'd been uncharacteristically quiet, processing the contents of the letter. "Why did Yao decide to sleep with King Ivan?"

"HOW SHOULD WE KNOW?!" Berwald exploded. Matthias took a step back.

Berwald took a deep breath and then sighed. "I need t' be alone r'ght n'w."

Lukas nodded, standing up. "Come on, Matthias." He, Matthias, and Tino left the room.

* * *

"Your move," said Feliciano. His amber eyes twinkled at Lovino.

Lovino scrutinized the chessboard, trying to calculate what would be the best move for him to make. Feliciano yawned.

Lovino glanced up. "Oh, shut up." He then noticed a servant standing near the door. "What is it?" he asked her.

"Pardon me, Your Highness," she said, "but there's a letter here for the two of you."

"It's addressed to both of us?" Feliciano asked her, turning around.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

He held out a hand, and she walked over and gave it to him.

"Thank you," Feliciano said. She gave a slight bow, then left. He turned to Lovino. "Shall we put our game on hold to see what it says?"

"Sure," Lovino replied. He looked over his brother's shoulder as he opened the envelope and pulled the letter out.

They read.

"Are you," Lovino said, after he'd read it, " _fucking_ kidding me?"

Feliciano gave no reply.

"Everyone from the Asian Kingdom is a filthy traitor," Lovino continued. "First Kiku, now Yao? What a fucking mess."

"Indeed," Feliciano responded, standing up. "I'm going to write King Ivan."

"Good idea," Lovino jumped up as well. "I'd like to give him a piece of my mind."

"No," Feliciano told him. " _You_ will do no such thing. You'll be too aggressive and confrontational. I'm going to try to fix this, not make it worse."

Lovino crossed his arms as Feliciano walked towards the door. "Are we at least going to finish our game?"

"Later," said Feliciano, walked out of the room.

Feliciano hurried down the hallways of Castle Odalescalchi, heading for his study. He clutched the letter in his right hand, frowning down at it. The news wasn't exactly shocking to him; Ivan had always seemed like the type to do whatever he liked with no thought to the consequences. But he was displeased. He was allied with Ivan, and this was making him look bad.

Feliciano reached his study and slipped in. He sat at his desk, pulled out all the necessary materials, and began to write a letter.

 _Dear King Ivan,_

 _How are you? I gather not well, as your affair with King Yao has just been exposed. This revelation will come with many consequences, several of which will not be affected by me, such as your subjects being unable to trust you. So, since you are already reaping what you've sown, I shall not be harsh with you. I am, however, politely requesting that you end this affair. It is for the good of everyone, really. It will help salvage yours and your allies' reputations. I, and my army, will stay with you until the end of this war, but as soon as peace has been declared, I am not your ally. Remember that._

 _From, King Feliciano Vargas._

He signed it with a flourish and a sigh.

"This _is_ a fucking mess," he muttered to himself.

* * *

"Francis, come look at this."

Francis looked up, startled. Arthur stood in the doorway to his chambers, holding a piece of paper.

"What is it?" Francis asked suspiciously. After their fight a few days ago, they hadn't spoken much, and Francis had been wallowing in regrets and guilt. He wanted to apologize to Arthur, but he didn't know how to express himself without sounding arrogant.

"Just come see," Arthur insisted. Francis put down the book of poetry he'd been reading, and got up. He waled over and took the paper from Arthur, unfolded it, and began to read.

"Holy shit," he said, when he'd finished reading.

"Ridiculous, isn't it?" Arthur said, and Francis realized he was laughing.

"This is going to screw up the war for sure," Francis chuckled. "Can you imagine poor Prince Kiku walking in on that?"

Arthur laughed some more. "How glad I am that we're neutral."

Francis handed the paper back to him. "Are _we?_ "

Arthur stopped snickering. "That depends," he said.

Francis sighed. "I'm sorry. I truly am. My intentions were never malicious, but my emotions got in the way of my common sense. I'm trying to be better about that now. Please forgive me, I'd like to be friends with you." He held out a hand for Arthur to shake.

Arthur looked at it, then hesitantly took it. "Friends," he said. They shook hands.

Francis smiled. "By the way, congratulations. With King Feliciano, I mean."

Arthur shrugged. "I s=don't know if it's going anywhere. But... I hope so."

"I hope so, too."

* * *

"Your Majesties? A letter."

Both Alfred and Matthew looked up at the sound of the servant's voice. They were int he same room, but they weren't spending time with each other; Matthew was composing a letter to Gilbert, and Alfred was reading. They were on opposite sides of the room.

"Who is it for?" Asked Alfred.

"Both of you, Your Majesty."

The brothers looked at each other curiously. "Alright," Alfred said, holding out a hand. The servant walked over and gave it to him. Matthew got up and walked over to take a look at it.

"The Asian Kingdom..." Matthew mused, looking at the seal.

"Thank you," Alfred said to the servant, who nodded and left the room. "Let's open it, then," he said to Matthew.

Matthew nodded, and snatched it from his brother's hands. "Hey," said Alfred, as Matthew broke the wax seal, "that's Kiku's handwriting. Why isn't he writing to me directly?"

Matthew had no answer for this, so he said nothing. He pulled out the paper and unfolded it, holding it so the both of them could see what was written.

They began to read.

"What the hell?" Alfred said, once he'd digested the information. "I can't believe this. What a goddamn hypocrite!"

"I can't quite believe it either." Matthew re-read the letter quickly. "That's disgraceful. Anyone who does such a thing is unfit to be King," he said snidely.

There was quiet for a moment. Then Alfred looked at his brother angrily. "What does that mean?!"

Matthew didn't look up from the letter. "You know what it means."

Alfred balled his hands up into fists. "I'm not doing this anymore, Matthew. Drop the passive-aggressive shit."

"Fine!" Matthew looked at him. "I forbid you to get married before me."

"What?" Alfred sputtered. "You can't do that! I'll get married whenever I want!"

Matthew jabbed a finger at him. "You can't be King on your own."

"I'm not a _child,_ Matthew!" Alfred yelled. "What the hell is your problem?"

" _My_ problem? You had an affair with a married man!"

"So what?!"

"Nobody trusts you!" Matthew burst out. "Can't you see that? By sleeping with Kiku, you've shown our subjects you're a liar and a cheater! None of them would be even remotely okay with you and Kiku as their Kings!"

"Who cares?! If you don't want me to be King so badly, why don't you marry Gilbert?" A slight smile dawned on Alfred's face as he thought of something. "Or does he not want you?"

"Shut up!" Matthew cried. "He's just not ready for marriage yet!"

"It's been three years, how much longer does he need? You know what, I bet he doesn't even love you anymore!"

Tears gathered in the corners of Matthew's eyes. "You fucking prick," was all he said before running from the room.

* * *

Ivan was silent, holding Yao's quaking body close to him. It'd been half an hour since they were interrupted by Kiku, and Yao was still crying. It was strange seeing Yao cry. It seemed like weeping was something alien to him, the tears that stubbornly dripped from his eyes foreign. He'd given up trying to suppress them a while ago, and had let himself drain his emotions through crying. Ivan didn't know what he was thinking about, but he could guess: a tarnished reputation, loss of trust among his family, and loss of allies. These things had plagued Ivan for the past half-hour, giving him endless scenarios to be anxious about.

Yao's sobs began to subside. "I'm a terrible King," he murmured into Ivan's chest. Ivan opened his mouth to give some reassurance, but Yao kept talking. "I tried not to, you know. I tried so hard. But at some point my feelings shifted and I..." He sobbed again. "I think I'm in love with you. Here we are, everyone in the Kingdoms against us, so many things to be worried about right now, and yet all I can worry about is what will happen to our relationship!"

Hearing those words made Ivan's breath catch in his throat. Suddenly it was the night they first met again, and his stomach was swooping and his mouth was dry. "That's okay," he heard himself whisper. Yao raised his head and looked at him. "I'm in love with you too." He kissed Yao.

The kiss was soft and hesitant. It felt different from the ones they'd exchanged before, almost like something entirely new. It was sweet and warm and slow, like honey, and it was magical. Ivan pulled away, wiping Yao's tears off his face.

There was a beat of silence. "Where do we go from here?" Yao asked.

"No idea."


	15. The End

Toris sat at the head of the big conference table, smoothing out his tunic. Feliks sat to his right, shuffling through a pile of papers. Eduard was to his left, talking quietly to Raivis, who was beside him. Something had happened between them. Toris didn't know exactly what, but he had an inkling.

"How are you feeling, Raivis?" Toris asked him.

"Just fine." Raivis smiled at him, leaning forward to see Toris' face from behind Eduard. It'd only been two days since his leg had been amputated, but he was recovering quickly. He tapped the tile floor with his wooden leg. "I'm still getting used to this, but otherwise I'm great."

"Good to hear," Toris told him. Raivis and Eduard resumed their conversation. "Do we have enough places?" He asked Feliks.

Felids quickly counted the chairs at the table. "Fifteen chairs, including us. So we've enough."

"Alright." Toris blew air out of his mouth, fluffing his hair. "I'm so nervous."

Feliks rubbed his face. "Me too," he confessed.

After Prince Kiku told everyone about Ivan and Yao's affair, the Kingdoms were thrown into chaos. No one was even paying attention to the war, so no generals received orders and nothing got done. Thinking quickly, Toris had proposed a cease-fire and a conference between the leaders of all the Kingdoms and their spouses. To his surprise, everyone accepted the invitation. Whether it was from an actual desire to set things right or just because they wanted to gossip and start drama, Toris didn't know. With this one meeting, he could either set the Kingdoms at peace or cause three more wars. Needless to say, he was stressed.

A knock at the door made all four of them jump. Toris cleared his throat. "Come in," he called.

A servant stepped into the room. "King Ludwig and Queen Irina Beilschmidt have arrived, Your Majesty," she said.

"Thank you," said Toris. The servant nodded, ushered the couple inside the room, and withdrew.

Ludwig and Irina stood near the doorway, not making a move to sit down. They were dressed similarly, he wearing a slate-grey tunic and red pants, she wearing a red dress with grey fur trim. Ludwig seemed annoyed, while Irina simply seemed curious.

"Welcome," Toris said, his voice cracking embarrassingly. He flushed. "Irina, nice to see you again. Ludwig, nice to finally meet you."

Ludwig merely gave him a nod before taking seat. Irina gave him soft smile, and said, "you have changed since we last saw each other, Toris."

"I suppose I have," Toris mumbled. The room fell silent again.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, the servant opened the door again. "The American Kings are here with their spouses."

"Alright," said Toris.

Four people entered the room: Matthew with Gilbert on his arm, Alfred beside the two of them, and Kiku trailing behind.

"Welcome," said Toris.

"Thank you for inviting us," said Matthew cordially. Alfred gave a nod and a wave.

While Gilbert and Matthew went to talk to Ludwig and Irina, Alfred and Kiku sat at the far end of the table.

"I didn't know Kiku would be here," Feliks whispered to Toris.

"Neither did I," he replied.

"Do you think it'll be a problem?"

"I hope not, but it probably will be," Toris sighed. He snapped his fingers at an attendant off to the side. "Could you please fetch an extra chair? Thank you."

The servant gave a quick nod and darted out of the room to fetch it. Toris turned his thoughts back to his impeding doom.

Next to arrive was Berwald and Tino. They greeted Toris in a friendly manner, and seated themselves beside Raivis.

Not long after they arrived, Arthur and Feliciano came. They seated themselves beside Feliks.

By now, the room was beginning to fill with chatter. Tino was enquiring about Raivis' health, and Feliciano had struck up a conversation with Feliks. Toris was just starting to relax when there was another knock on the door.

"Yes?"

The servant opened the door. "King Ivan Braginsky has arrived."

There was dead silence.

"Very well," Toris said.

Ivan entered the room, wearing a tunic the colour of a ripe blueberry. Instantly, everyone tensed up. Ivan walked over to the end of the table and sat directly opposite Toris. He didn't stare right at Toris like the last time they'd seen each other. He dropped his gaze, and Toris felt a little more confident.

Ivan glanced around the room. Feliciano was looking at him curiously, but everyone else pointedly ignored him. Irina had turned her chair so that her back was facing him.

The tense aura in the room didn't dissipate, but people began talking again. Feliks wiped his brow.

A few more minutes went by until the door was opened again by the servant. "King Wang Yao has arrived."

"Thank you," said Toris, noting the looks of displeasure on almost everyone's faces. Kiku practically glowered.

Yao entered the room, looking for somewhere to sit. The only chair that was left was the one between Ivan and Kiku. He hesitated, then walked over and sat.

"Well, everyone is here," Toris said loudly, over the whispers floating around the table. "So, let's get started."

The table quieted as Toris rose and unrolled a large map. He pinned it to the wall behind him, then turned back to the table. "I want to make it clear that personal affairs are not to be brought up," he said, too late realizing his choice of words might not have been the best. "This conference is solely for the purpose of negotiating an end to the war. Am I clear?" A few people nodded. "Great."

Toris turned to the map. It'd been drawn on, borders hastily scribbled and crossed out. "At this time, the Soviet Kingdom has ovvupied roughly half of the Baltic Kingdom, about a quarter on each front, excluding the land that was originally owned by the Germanic Kingdom." Toris noticed Ludwig shooting a glare at Feliks. "King Ludwig - correct me if I'm wrong, but your only motive for entering this war was to get your territory back, right?"

"That is correct," said Ludwig.

Toris leaned towards Feliks, whispering so no one could overhear him. "Should we give him all his territory back?"

Feliks hesitated. "Let me negotiate with him," he said. Toris nodded, and sat down.

"Standing up and turning to face Ludwig, Feliks said, "My condition is this: everything from the town of Głowno eastward is to be the Baltic Kingdom's. We shall give you the rest."

"Give me?" Ludwig laughed. "That land is _mine_."

"That is my condition."

"Well, I have a condition as well." Ludwig stood. "My condition is this: if the land that rightfully belongs to the Germanic Kingdom is not returned, I will take it by force. My army will ravage through that land, burning fields and pillaging villages. We will come down on you like a prairie rainstorm, only we won't let up. Do you understand?" he seethed. Irina placed a hand on his arm.

"Your condition is noted," said Feliks, in the calmest voice he could manage. "I will make a different offer. Everything from Skierniewice eastward will be ours, and the rest yours."

"Are you deaf?" asked Ludwig angrily. "I will not budge on my condition."

"From Długokąt eastw-"

"I'm not budging!"

"I'll give you-"

"You will give me _all_ my land, Feliks Łukasiewicz!" Ludwig yelled.

 _Well, it didn't take too long for tempers to flare,_ thought Toris.

"You stole that from me, and I am going to watch you hand it back to me!" Ludwig continued.

"Calm down," Irina said to him. He took a deep breath.

"One plot of land," Feliks said steadily. "That's all I ask." He meandered over to the map and placed his finger on a dot, a tiny town. "Located here. That's all I want to own."

"Then you can purchase it from the municipality," Ludwig snapped. "That land is mine and I want it back."

Feliks' nostrils flared, and for a moment he looked like he was going to hit Ludwig. Then he sat, sighing irritably.

Toris stood quickly, looking between the two. "King Ludwig, I accept your condition. But no more than was yours originally."

"Thank you, King Toris," he said, sitting down.

Feliks gave Toris a pleading look. Toris leaned towards him to whisper again. "You'll be able to visit that field. I promise."

Feliks, though somewhat reassured, asked, "how do you know for certain?"

"Well, I don't know for certain," Toris admitted, "but I know for pretty sure." He turned back to the table.

"King Ivan," he said, and Ivan looked up at him. "You presently occupy about one half of my Kingdom. You can have a quarter of my land, and I'll even let you choose which quarter."

"The northeastern quarter," Ivan said immediately, to Toris' surprise. "My Kingdom is already on the decline, and nothing will stop that, not even getting my land back," he justified.

"You could try actually giving a shit," Raivis murmured. Eduard snickered, covering his mouth with his hands.

"Before I continue, is there anything anyone needs to discuss with their allies?" Whispers filled the room. "That isn't personal?" Toris added. The room fell silent.

"Right," Toris sighed, closing his eyes. His face changed, and Feliks could tell he was mentally rehearsing something. Then his eyes snapped open, and he began whatever it was.

"Now that the borders have been drawn, the only thing left is to decide who is responsible and should make the reparation payments," he said, scanning those seated around the table. "But I anticipate much disagreement here. Ivan is to blame, of course, but so am I, for seceding from his Kingdom. Feliks is to blame for seceding from Ludwig's Kingdom, and Ludwig is to blame for accepting Ivan's alliance. The truth is, blame for something on a scale this large cannot be assigned so easily." Toris was confident but calm, and Feliks knew that, mentally, he was in that library, surrounded by epics about warrior princesses and demigod heroes. "So, I am going to go easy on all of us. I want every Kingdom involved to accept responsibility for this war, as we all played a part in it. There will be no reparation payments."

There was quiet as everyone processed this.

"A condition of this is that we forget," Toris continued. "We forget the betrayals and injustices." He sighed. "I'm not saying we all need to become best friends. I'm saying this is the last time this needs to happen, for seven Kingdoms to participate in what could have been a two-Kingdom war. And those who were dragged into the war may declare a state of neutrality."

More silence.

"Do you all accept my conditions?"

One by one, everyone at the table nodded.

Matthew stood. "I'll declare a state of neutrality for the American Kingdom."

"I'll declare one for the South European Kingdom," Feliciano said.

"I as well," Yao spoke. "For the Asian Kingdom."

"Anyone else?" Toris asked. When no one replied, he said, "alright, that's that." He nodded at the scribe sitting in the corner, who put down his pen and massaged his wrist. "I'll have a contract written up and sent to you. Sign it and send it back so I can deliver it to the next person." Toris sat down. "Thank you."

The room erupted into chatter once more, but Toris wasn't paying attention. He leaned back in his chair, exhausted.

"Is it really over?" Feliks asked in a faraway voice.

"It is. It's done with," Toris replied, that fact only hitting him now. He smiled. "Thank God."

Around the table, others were beginning to process that this ordeal was over as well. The atmosphere in most of the room grew lighter, more amiable. But there was one pocket where tension was still thick, and that was where Ivan, Yao, and Kiku were seated.

The three of them were silent and still, none of them knowing whether to say something or just leave. Finally, Kiku spoke.

"Don't you have something to say to me?" It was confrontational, perhaps too much so.

Yao crossed his arms. "Do you want me to apologize? Because I won't if you won't."

"Well, it seems we're at an impasse then," huffed Kiku.

"Why don't we just agree we all fucked up," suggested Ivan.

"Why are you so..." Kiku trailed off. " _Mellow?_ " He finished. "It's disconcerting."

Ivan shrugged. "Being stubborn and aggressive won't do me any good right now. It took me far too long to realize that."

There was a pause.

"Well, I'm going to continue my relationship with Alfred," Kiku said. "There's no point in hiding it now." He took Alfred's hand.

"And we're continuing ours," said Yao firmly. Ivan smiled, and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

There was another long pause.

Kiku sighed. "I suppose I'll leave now. See you at the Palace, Yao. Ivan." He and Alfred stood up and walked away.

"Do you think he'll ever trust you again?" asked Ivan.

"I don't know," Yao responded. "Though I don't really know if he ever trusted me in the first place."

"We'd better focus on rebuilding the trust of our people," Ivan mused, "or all of this will have been for naught." He glanced across the room at his sister, who was laughing with her husband, and he felt a small ache.

Yao kissed him. "It's not, though. And it never will be."

Ivan smiled weakly.

* * *

 _5 years later..._

* * *

It was a cool spring morning in the Soviet Kingdom and Natalya had just woken up. She lay in the big double bed, soft white sheets tucked comfortably around her, trying to remember the dream she'd just had. In the moment it'd seemed unforgettable, but even now it was slipping from her memory.

Rustling from the other side of the bed interrupted her train of thoughts. Natalya looked over at her wife, who was rubbing sleep dust out of her eyes.

"Morning," Erika said sleepily.

Natalya kissed her. "Good morning, love."

Erika smiled and grabbed her hand. "I don't want to get up."

Natalya lay back down and cuddled up next to her. "Me neither," she laughed softly.

"Do we have to go to your brother's wedding tonight?" Erika asked.

Natalya looked at her. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

Erika shrugged. "Now that we have the Castle to ourselves, there's better things to do than prepare to go to a wedding."

Natalya kissed her softly. "We'll have plenty of time for other activities later," she said, getting out of bed. She slipped out of her nightgown, the silk dropping to the tile floor. She grinned at Erika over her shoulder. "Besides, we have a little free time now."

Erika rolled over and took Natalya's hand, pulling her back into bed. "I love you, Natalya."

* * *

"Good morning, Your Majesty," the scullery girl said to Irina as she lit the day's fire in her bedroom.

"Good morning," Irina responded, stretching. She glanced at her husband, still asleep beside her in the bed, and smiled softly. There was a knock at the door, and she called, "enter!"

The nurse popped her head in the door. "Hildegard is awake now."

Irina stood up, beaming. "I would love to see her."

The nurse and Irina walked down the hall and entered the nursery. It was close to the master bedroom so that if she cried out at night, Irina would know. They entered the room, and Irina approached the crib.

Hildegard lay wrapped in a blanket, smiling absentmindedly as she moved her little limbs. Irina brushed her thin blonde hair back from her face, then picked her up. Her daughter was the perfect size to hold, fitting snugly between Irina's arms and breast.

"Hello sweetheart," she cooed. Hildegard was six months old, and the most beautiful baby Irina had ever seen. Her eyes were blue, like both her parents', but their shape was thinner, more like her father's eyes. Her face was a similar shape to Irina's, and she had Irina's large and curved nose. Irina touched it softly.

The door opened, and Irina turned around. Ludwig entered, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He smiled when he saw Irina holding the baby.

"I didn't know you were awake," she said.

He walked over and kissed her. "I am now," he said, then looked at Hildegard. She reached out a hand, and he let her grab his finger, wrapping her tiny hand around it. They both giggled.

"We are so lucky," Ludwig said.

"We really are," Irina replied.

"Hildegard reached for Irina's breast, then suddenly began to cry. The nurse took her from Irina and began to unbutton her blouse.

"Come, let's have breakfast ourselves." They both laughed softly. Irina took her husband's hand, and they kissed again.

* * *

Lukas sat in the parlour of Castle Riksdaghuset, enjoying a morning coffee. It would be more accurate to say he was trying to enjoy it, as running footsteps and the occasional should could be heard from the hallway. The Castle was much louder these days, ever since Berwald and Tino had decided to bring a child in as their heir. It'd been almost a year, and Lukas still wasn't used to it. Emil as a child was mostly quiet, preferring to spend his time reading. Peter, on the other hand, was fond of games like 'hide the slipper', which Matthias often indulged him in.

The two of them ran into the room, Matthias huffing from exertion. Lukas smirked.

"I won!" Peter said loudly, and Lukas sighed. "You're not very good at this game, are you, Uncle Matthias? Want to play for money?"

"Maybe later," Matthias told him, sitting down. "I have to rest."

" _Fine,_ " Peter said, pouting. He ran out of the room again, and the two on the couch heard him call for Tino.

"You're sweating," Lukas remarked, amused.

"He's high energy," said Matthias. He kissed Lukas on the cheek. "Excuse me," he said to a servant, "could I get a coffee as well? Thank you." He sighed in contentment as the servant left the room.

"Do you think we should adopt a child?" Matthias asked.

Lukas looked into the depths of his coffee cup. "Well, I would like to, someday. Maybe in a few years."

Matthias beamed. "I can wait."

"It's been so long since there was a baby in the Castle, though," Lukas mused.

"Well, Emil was more of a small child when-"

"You know what I mean." He paused. "It's incredible that it's been eighteen years since I took him in." Lukas took another sip of his coffee. "I miss him."

"We're visiting this Christmas," Matthias reminded him.

"It still seems so far from now," Lukas sighed.

Matthias rubbed his shoulder. "We have letters for a reason."

Lukas smiled. "You're right." He kissed him. "Speaking of, I should write to him." He rose from the couch.

The servant entered with a steaming cup of coffee. Matthias took it from her. "Thank you."

He took a sip and began to relax.

* * *

Francis sat with contented sigh. He cracked his knuckles, then picked up the pen and began to write on the paper in front of him.

 _Dear Arthur,_

 _I hope you are doing well. After a brief panic, the Palace has settled back into its usual routine. I am handling things as best I can, but I must admit it is difficult, much more so than I anticipated. How are things at Castle Odalescalchi? I have heard Feliciano is more cheerful now that you are there, if it is even possible for him to be more lighthearted. In any case, I'm glad you two are working out. As for me, a beautiful man winked at me yesterday, so I am in good spirits. It is possible he will call at the Palace tomorrow, so I shall tell you how that goes. Give Lovino my regards, and tell Antonio that Emma says hello._

 _Your friend,_

 _Francis Bonnefoy._

Francis blew on the paper, attempting to dry the ink, then folded it carefully. He slipped the paper into an envelope, then sealed it. He stood and picked up the envelope, walking out of the room.

He approached the first servant he saw in the hall. "Deliver this to Castle Odalescalchi," he said. The servant nodded and took it.

Francis continued meandering down the halls, whistling.

* * *

Arthur sighed into Feliciano's neck, feeling the soft weight of his betrothed at his side. He was so snug and warm and content, he never wanted this moment to end.

A knock at the bedroom door made him jerk in surprise. "Come in," he called grumpily.

A servant entered. "A letter for you, Your Majesty."

"For me?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Put it on the desk. I'll read it later," he told the servant, closing his eyes again.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

He felt Feliciano stir beside him. "What time is it?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Nearly ten," Arthur replied. "You don't have to get up yet."

Feliciano kissed him. "Good, because I'm much too tired." Arthur chortled softly.

They lay, limbs tangled together in comfortable silence for a few minutes, until faint yelling could be heard from somewhere in the Castle.

Arthur pried his eyes open once more. "What the hell is that?" He lifted his head. "Is that Heracles' voice? I didn't think he had it in him to yell."

"He does when it comes to Sadik," Feliciano said, eyes still closed.

"Sadik? Who's that?" Arthur asked.

"Someone Heracles knows. They're not friends; they love to hate each other."

Arthur lay his head back on the pillow. "Well, I can understand that," he said, smirking.

Feliciano giggled. "Time for breakfast, don't you think?"

"Indeed," said Arthur. He kissed his betrothed and smiled at him.

* * *

The carriage rattled as it rolled along a dirt road on the outskirts of the Baltic Kingdom. The two inside were thoroughly sore from travelling like this for several weeks, but it had ceased to bother them. They had just left the small village where they'd spent the previous day, speaking to local noblemen, learning what needed to be fixed or changed. After weeks of doing this, however, the towns had started to blur in their minds and they were forgetting what they'd heard.

"So, they said their water supply was most likely contaminated, right?" Toris asked his husband.

"No, that was the last town. This one had rats." Feliks corrected.

Toris frowned. "I thought the rats contaminated the water."

Feliks opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. "I don't remember anyone saying that," he said hesitantly.

"Well, we can ask the scribe when we get to the next town," said Toris.

"Thank God it's the last one." Feliks yawned. "I'm getting tired of travelling constantly."

"It'll be worth it," Toris said., kissing Feliks on the cheek. "We'll be able to understand our Kingdom so much better, and make changed to ensure the health and prosperity of all."

Feliks smiled. "I love you," he murmured. "Your kindness and compassion is incredible to me." He kissed him.

"Thank you for agreeing to this," Toris said in response. "I must admit, I was surprised when you said you wanted to come."

"It's been eye-opening." Feliks kissed Toris once more, then changed the subject. "How do you think things are back at the Castle?"

"They should be fine," Toris mused. "Eduard must be in his element, being in charge." They laughed. "I haven't received a letter in a while, so I'm going to assume nothing is amiss."

"Maybe they burnt down the Castle," Feliks theorized. "Or maybe another Kingdom declared war on us. Or-"

Toris swatted his arm. "Stop," he chuckled. Feliks grinned cheekily.

The carriage began to slow down. "Your Majesties, we are arriving at the town of Klaipėda," the driver called. Out the windows, they could see a crowd had gathered to welcome the Kings to the town.

"Are you ready for our last day of this?" Toris asked his husband.

Feliks kissed him hard. When he pulled away, he said, "I've never been more ready for anything."

* * *

"I, Yao, give my body to you, Ivan, in loyal matrimony."

"And I receive it. I, Ivan, give my body to you, Yao, in loyal matrimony."

"And I receive it. Ivan, I take you to be my husband and I espouse you, and I commit to you the fidelity and loyalty of my body and possessions; and I keep you in health and sickness and in any condition should it please our Lord that you should have, nor for worse or for better will I change towards you until the end."

"Yao, I take you to be my husband and I espouse you, and I commit to you the fidelity and loyalty of my body and possessions; and I keep you in health and sickness and in any condition should it please our Lord that you should have, nor for worse or for better will I change towards you until the end."

Yao let out the breath he'd been holding, and opened his eyes to see Ivan looking at him and smiling. The priest was saying something, of course, but neither of them were listening as they embraced. They kissed as those gathered around clapped and cheered and threw flowers. Neither of them focused on the noise around them, but on each other. Ivan cupped his husband's cheek and laughed, almost giddily. They were married.

Walking down the aisle with hundreds of people wishing them well, Ivan felt like he was floating.


End file.
